


Anarchy in the UK

by Candymind



Series: Anarchy extended [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Angst, Baby Harry Potter, Cake, Comfort/Angst, Domestic Fluff, Epic Friendship, F/M, Family Fluff, Found Family, Gun Violence, Hot Chocolate, Hurt/Comfort, Knives, M/M, Modern Era, Murder, Scars, Sirius Black & Lily Evans Potter Friendship, Welsh Remus Lupin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:15:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 23
Words: 52,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23399080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Candymind/pseuds/Candymind
Summary: Lupin is a hitman, and he doesn't question the orders to kill as long there's gun in his hand. Well, until Sirius grins at him over a cup of coffee.
Relationships: Arthur Weasley/Molly Weasley, James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Series: Anarchy extended [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1875565
Comments: 44
Kudos: 143
Collections: Made Me Cry, To remember and cherish





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So here goes, my first long fic. I'll try and update this every week? We'll see how we go :). Should be a fun quarantine project that spreads a lil bit of angsty joy, ya know. Anyway, there's a lil bit of blood in this and someone dies kind of off-screen, just to give a warning. I'll update the tags as I go, enjoy!

The sky's almost dark again. Amongst the pink clouds stands Lupin- his silhouette only a black line that could be blown away by the next breath of wind. He takes a deep breath and tries to forget his day and the handsome smile thrown his way in the coffee shop he’d gone to on a whim, wanting a hot chocolate made without shaking hands for once. Lupin takes another breath and exhales the question of if he could, or should, return to the cosy corner cafe again, along with the growing sense of loneliness pressing down upon his chest. 

There’s a job to be done once the sun finally dips beneath the horizon. In preparation, he runs his hands over the pistol at his belt, checking the silencer’s still in place and that he’d packed the right number of bullets. Taking them out of the chamber, he lets each bullet sit heavy in his scarred hand. Their weight settles something inside and the breeze on the rooftops doesn’t seem so cold anymore. He doesn’t shiver with them in his hand- with the familiar feeling of smooth metal against his skin. As far back as he can remember, he’s had no problem dealing in metal and blood. Of course, Lupin knows normal people don’t solve their problems by signing up for (legal) hit jobs. He’s seen the looks he gets when he heads to the office to check in and give the rundown on the latest job. But at the end of the day, he doesn’t see a way out anymore that isn’t paved in red. 

A flicker of movement on the otherwise empty street below catches his eye and all of his attention. Someone darts out from an alley- a small streak breaking the uniform grey of the tarmac. Fast, Lupin reaches out in front of him onto a fire escape and slides down the railing onto ground level. It’s not quite the time he’d prefer to do this as the sun’s not quite set yet, but the person he’s after had made their move, and this is his only chance for the next month.

Over the past few months Lupin had traced the movement of people entering and exiting the garage he now stood in front of, dressed in the patched suit he reserved for these occasions. Once a month, everyone except the big boss was sent out for an hour at least. For what reason, it had been impossible to tell. But with the last of them gone, he now has an hour to take his shot- long enough to keep him on his toes but not really short enough that he has anything to worry about. And with only one person- hopefully- on the other side of the metal door, there shouldn’t be a problem with being overwhelmed either. 

It’s a nice, tidy job. 

“Well, it would be if you ignored the murder…” Lupin mutters under his breath, steadying himself for a moment before giving a curt knock that rings out down the road, announcing his presence to the pigeons chattering up above which scatter to the skies as though they know what he’s about to do. They scatter like they can’t stand Lupin’s presence any more than Lupin can stand his own presence.

The birds don't see the blood. They don’t see Lupin look the surprised big boss in the eye right as he pulls the trigger. There’s no hesitation anymore before the muted shot rings out, just a slight tug in his gut reminding him of the monster that’s eating up a little more of his heart each time he watches the light leave someone’s eyes. And as he’s cleaning up, the sun decides it doesn’t want to see him either, even after being so keen to hang around and see the show.

Once the body’s safely stowed in a handily placed closet, he’s alone with a small pool of blood and a ticking clock, reminding him that time’s running out. At least when he gets home there’s no red on his shirt- the stuff’s a pain to get out of white cloth. Frankly, Lupin’s not sure why he still bothers with white shirts, what with the number of times he’s ended up having to just ditch them. There’s only so many times spilling ketchup works as a cover story, and when one time his jacket had got ripped off in a more rigorous job, even spilling wine wouldn’t have explained the mess on his train ride home. 

Lupin likes to hum to himself at this stage of the work, with just him and a cloth to clear up all that’s left. As there’d been no struggle, there’s not long before he’s left with a clean concrete floor and slightly pink hands. He likes working with his hands; there’s something people always underestimate about the beauty of a job that’s been hand finished. It’s quiet and peaceful and that’s all Lupin needs, even if somewhere inside his head he knows it’s not enough. The books on his shelf, about a life beyond grime, gloss, and guns, are the only indication he wants something more. Well, aside from the hot chocolate earlier.

Finished in the garage, Lupin contemplates stopping off at the cafe for another hot drink. After all, if some people go there for a coffee every five minutes, why shouldn’t he visit the place just once more? The smile spreading across his face at the thought of returning there has nothing to do with the grin promising danger he’d received earlier from a guy in a motorbike jacket just tight enough to hint at wiry muscle underneath the leather. 

Shaking his head, he moves out of the ‘crime scene’. If the police are eventually called then a special team will move in to cover up his part in the operation, sighting a mysterious serial killer who handily only seems to kill those who’ve posed a threat to the government as the murderer. The scene’s clear of his DNA and he’s left behind a corpse; his job here’s done. Anything else that happens here is officially above Lupin’s pay grade.

He needs a drink. He’d say a strong one, except for the fact that Lupin doesn’t think the coffee shop sells anything stronger than a double espresso- especially not if he’s trying to avoid being remembered. So he sets off down the street to catch a bus, hoping it’s not too full of people heading out on the surprisingly warm summer’s evening and musing over his menu options. Given the heat, something iced sounds incredibly good, and only gets more tempting when the bus arrives packed full of youngsters ready to party. 

It’s only been a couple of years since that was him. Well, he’d never quite managed the whole partying scene so much as endured it once or twice with the help of Peter before-

Well. Before Peter wasn’t part of his life anymore. And for all of his talk of loving and supporting his friend, Lupin hadn’t really been willing to accompany him on big lads nights, instead choosing to stay home or head out on a job without being disturbed or questioned. And now he’s got nobody to drag him out to one of the ‘Lupin appropriate’ clubs and get him into the fun shirts a group of guys at the back of the bus are all wearing that Peter had devoted most of his wallet to acquiring. 

Lupin shakes his head as the bus slows down once more, the announcement of the stop going over his head as his mind’s still caught up in cobwebs. Whirling about, Lupin struggles to see out of the window from where he’s standing so that he can gauge where they are. Snatches of long black hair and a light blue motorbike catch his eye as the vehicles both slow down to approach the next corner- Lupin’s stop.

Pressing the stop button a little frantically, Lupin weaves his way to the door releasing a small flurry of excuses as he squeezes past other passengers and gets spat out onto the pavement as soon as the bus pulls up to the stop. Wheeling about, he finds himself face to face with the stupidly handsome man from earlier, complete with a baby blue bike gleaming in the orange glow from a nearby lamppost. 

“Hey there beautiful, almost crashed into you there. Though I wouldn’t object to you falling for me-” begins the guy, speaking like he knows every bit of how good he looks and throwing in a wink that scrunches up his face in a way that Remus is sure is a criminal offence.

Wary of how close they’re standing, Lupin springs back and begins scrabbling together apologies to make him sink back into the background. “I’m so sorry I didn’t see you there with a bike and everything- the bus was just so packed I really wasn’t thinking when I stepped off. Are you alright?” 

It comes out hurried, before Lupin really hears what the biker guy said, and there’s a blush he can feel rising from his collar as the stranger’s words sink in. 

Beautiful? 

Deadly maybe, but Lupin knows he’s not beautiful. When it’s useful, he’ll be charming and polished, but all the charm in the world doesn’t make up for the scars littering his body. Yet this man in front of him had just called him beautiful as though the thought of Lupin being anything other than that hadn’t crossed his mind for one second. 

“Maybe I should be asking you that, looked like you were on another planet for a minute there. You back with me now?” The stranger asks with a crease between his eyebrows. His face so openly betrays his emotions that Lupin can see the concern leaking from the guy’s features into his words. Someone being concerned over him almost sends Lupin off into a crisis, but he knows that he can’t afford to stand out anymore than he already does- not with his job being one for ghosts.

Dusting himself off, Lupin manages a nod and looks the other guy over properly. Dressed all in black, Lupin thanks God that skinny jeans were invented and that this guy knows how to wear them. He's got one hand on the bike and all of his focus on Lupin. 

_All of his focus._

“Good to have you back, don’t suppose you’re heading to the cafe I first saw your charm in this morning?” With another wink, the tone shifts and Lupin feels the edges of his lips creeping upwards, because not only is the man beautiful, but he’s charming too. The guy’s voice is deeply earnest, giving away everything in a way that makes the listener give something back. 

Lupin considers lying for a second and forgetting about the drink now that there’s someone who recognizes him, but the night’s still hot and he wants so badly to get to know this charming guy- surely one drink wouldn’t hurt?

“Sure am,” Lupin confirms, before continuing “and by my charm you can’t mean the sour face you saw this morning because I know that before ten there’s no charm at all to be found anywhere near me,” letting a trace of a smirk accompany his words. If the stranger was already flirting at him, then who’s Lupin not to flirt back- especially when the guy has jeans that manage to make his legs look that divine.

The guy’s smile widens as he replies, “Well, luckily I’ve got the gift of seeing charm even when it’s hidden away,” and adds in a wink just to send Lupin’s heart racing when he thought he’d caught his cool. 

“I’m Sirius by the way,” he adds on almost as an afterthought, running a hand through shoulder length black hair and moving to lock up his bike in a seamless motion. His eyes stay locked onto Lupin’s face though, and Lupin realises that he’s waiting for a name in return.

Can Lupin give away his name? Sirius wouldn’t recognise it, but Lupin wouldn’t be able to disappear after this with his name given away.

He bites his lips and releases the name on the tip of his tongue- the one that’s not drenched in blood and hasn’t had someone to hear it in twelve years.

“Remus.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A coffee date ensues. Introducing Sirius as the teller of his own story :). No warnings as far as I can tell other than a brief mention of scars, let me know if there's anything else to add.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter two is here. Quarantine is doing wonders for my writing habits, hope ya'll are hanging on in there ok and enjoy the chapter!

Sirius is aware that his flirting had been a little overkill ( _who winks like that?_ ) but couldn’t stop himself when the quietly gorgeous dude - Remus - he’d seen that morning had stumbled off the bus. He’d thought that his chance with this guy, who’s sitting across the table looking into his iced mocha like his world is contained within the mug, had been lost when Remus had cast one last look his way before carefully closing the shop door. And now, by sheer coincidence, they’re here at the same place, several hours later.

He can hardly believe it. After the horror show at the bus stop, Sirius wouldn’t be surprised if Remus had gone running. And yet the young man’s smiling at him with tired eyes and the beginnings of stubble over the top of their glasses. Sirius had just ordered a black coffee - _one day he’ll open a coffee shop to capitalize on his surname_ \- and Remus had gone for an iced mocha. Given the heat, an iced drink was definitely a smart decision, yet when had Sirius been into smart decisions?

“How did you get to know about this little place then?” Sirius asks, anxious to distract his thoughts.

Remus finishes a sip, licks his lips like he just knows exactly how he can distract Sirius, and replies nonchalantly, “I just sort of wandered in off the street. And you?”

“I know the owners…” Sirius drags his mind out of the gutter and back onto the table into the conversation. _Remus had just wandered in?_ It made sense because he was a frequent customer then chances are Sirius would recognize him. It’s not that he spends enough of his time here watching the regulars go about their daily business just to have an excuse to see his friends when they’re fueling their barista dreams, it’s just that his flat gets cold during the day and company is always nice. It’s only a few minutes from his place on the bike too- almost too convenient.

“We went to the same school, and then uni together. But James didn’t see any point in some high stress job when Lily - the redhead by the coffee machine - accepted his proposal. You wouldn’t believe the stress the guy put me through, trying to find a ring and all that.” He wants to tell Remus all about it, about James turning up at midnight when he knew Lily was ‘the one’, and having a crisis over how old they were becoming because kids don’t plan weddings or think about the future like they can hold it in their hands and shape it if they want to.

Remus looks over at Lily who’s coldly explaining that free refills weren’t available with a look of steel in her eyes as a guy of at least 6 foot and made of pure muscle gripped his mug in a fist. Sirius feels a rush of warmth at Lily, James’ sweet flower, laying down her law with an iron fist that makes Remus, who seems to have a fair bit of muscle under his scruffy suit, raise his eyebrows slightly.

Remus draws his gaze back to Sirius.

“Remind me not to make her angry...”

The sincerity in the other man’s voice makes Sirius smile even wider- makes him grin even. He’s known Lily from his first day at secondary when she’d threatened him into silence during a maths class and then he’d watched his best mate fall head over heels with her the minute he told James about the girl who’d made a marauder stay silent during a lesson. Of course, it had taken a little under seven years before Lily could see how much the guy liked her and James realised that he wouldn’t win her heart through endless pranks and an endless supply of flowery gifts.

As if reading his thoughts and now finished dealing with the tricky customer, Lily makes for their table with a question on the tip of her tongue that Sirius is not going to let Remus hear what with Lily’s terrible track record on his previous coffee dates. 

_Please don’t scare Remus away._

“Sirius! Sorry I didn’t have time to properly say hi earlier and introduce myself to-” she begins, a slightly too big grin plastered onto her face.

He sends a prayer up to the gods and hopes that they hear him, “Lily! And how is the light of my life, my one true love, doing on this fine evening?” Rather than waiting for a reply Sirius glances over to see how much more of his drink Remus has got, just his luck that it’s too much for a quick getaway, and continues with a sigh, “This is Remus- we just bumped into each other outside.” 

Lily’s face lights up even more, half in anger at being interrupted and half excited to see who Sirius had dragged in here this time. “Remus, it’s lovely to meet you,” she begins, and Sirius takes a deep breath of relief because it sounds like she might not mention-

“Sirius Orion Black, I’ve got a bone to pick with you, and I’m incredibly sorry you’re hearing this Remus as I’m sure you’re lovely, but you’ve gone and bloody done it this time Sirius! Do you even remember the last guy you brought here?” She pauses here, and Sirius has the crushing realisation that he’s not going to get off lightly; Lily only uses that tone of voice when she’s a second away from slitting someone’s throat. 

Without waiting for the stuttering Sirius to reply, she barrels on, “Because I swear if one more of your flings needs comforting after you break up with them I’ll… Argh!” And with that she throws her hands onto her hips and glares at Sirius in the way which makes his insides wriggle uncomfortably, telling him that ultimately he might just be in the wrong. 

“Again, I’m really sorry that this is your first introduction to me Remus, mind if we start over?” Sirius might still be stinging from her mini tirade, but he has to appreciate how the woman can switch from being the scariest person in the room to the friendliest. 

Stunned in his seat, looking mildly confused and incredibly cute, Remus nods. “I guess I’m the latest fling,” he says in a level voice, with an almost questioning tone, glancing over at Sirius to raise an eyebrow. 

_Lily hasn’t completely destroyed my chances for once?_

Sirius barks out a laugh, which Lily doesn’t take very well by the scowl she sends him. 

“I swear to God I’m serious, don't make me give you time behind the counter,” she warns, the threat heavy in her voice. 

“But I thought I was Sirius?” is the reflex reply out of his mouth before he can stop it and then Remus is smirking at him again and he can’t bring himself to regret it when Lily throws him a death glare.

Turning to address Remus, obviously unable to deal with Sirius’ amazing sense of humour, she starts over. “Well, I’ll consider you warned about the guy you met on the street who’s surprisingly one of my best friends in spite of his small habit of behaving like a dog when it comes to relationships.”

_Well, that went better than expected..._

Sirius glances across at the other man and is caught off guard by a faint scar he hadn’t noticed earlier right across Remus’ face. Starting just above his left eyebrow, it traces over the tip of his nose and skims down his right cheek. As Remus turns to one side, Sirius notices that it’s almost as if each faint pink line is entirely separate, and yet from the front it had looked like a violent slash of a knife had opened up a single wound stretching from the top left of Remus’ face to the bottom right. 

And then Remus suddenly turns back to face Sirius and he looks expectant. Is there something Sirius should be doing? He’ll admit he may have zoned out whilst watching his maybe-boyfriend’s face, trying to decode everything he doesn’t know about the man. Scratch that, from the concerned looks he’s getting from Remus and now Lily as well, he definitely zoned out a little longer.

“Did I miss something?” Sirius cracks a smile to try and ease the tension in the concerned upturns of their lips. That much stress really can’t be good for people.

Remus shares a look with Lily before addressing Sirius, “Nothing, just looked like you drifted off for a moment there mate. You alright now?”

_Mate?_

Sirius is a lot of things, but he refuses to get friend-zoned by Remus this early on in the courtship. Sending a look to Lily, who then gives him perhaps the most obvious wink he’s ever seen because that woman has no ideas about the art of subtlety and excuses herself to clean away Remus’ now empty glass, Sirius pulls on the face he knows makes people swoon. 

“I’m all good, sorry about that I have a tendency to get lost in beautiful people’s faces.” From the dusting of pink along Remus’ cheeks he’d say the guy didn’t intentionally friend-zone him, as the other guy’s reaction is a little too much to be in response to a friendly compliment. In fact, most of his friends hardly react at all to Sirius’ compliments anymore unless it’s to return the favour, being too used to his flamboyant declarations of his love for them all.

Grinning inside at making the guy blush, Sirius downs his luke-warm coffee ( _had they been here that long already?_ ) and gets to his feet, giving Remus a questioning look towards the door with one eyebrow raised. 

And Remus, _thank God_ , catches on, bouncing a little as he gets to his feet on the tips of his toes. Sirius leads the way out of the shop, waving blindly to Lily at the counter trying to avoid the smug face he’s sure she’s wearing, and Remus follows behind, his footsteps surprisingly quiet.

Outside it’s a little cooler than the huddled warmth the coffee shop had offered. Remus breathes in deeply as he takes in the night sky next to Sirius who fumbles with keys in his pocket. There’s an idea brewing in the back of his mind, inspired by seeing any remaining tension leak out of Remus as the mystifying guy stares up at the sparse scattering of stars available to see with all of the light pollution from the city.

“Where to now?” Remus voices the question not to Sirius, but seemingly to the depths of space.

But it’s Sirius who responds “If you’d like, we can go somewhere you can actually see the stars.”

Turning away back to face Sirius, Remus quirks up an eyebrow in confusion. “Somewhere… But how?”

Understanding dawns on his face as Sirius holds out the key to his bike, and for a moment it looks like he might be left standing there with a stupid key held in his outstretched hand. For a moment Remus has a crease on his forehead that Sirius wants desperately to run a hand over and smooth out. It’s a little mark of whatever’s going on inside the other man’s head that’s holding him back; Sirius can feel Remus’ mind working on overdrive to make itself up.

He’s about to turn away and save them both the embarrassment of excuses- to just part ways now and call it just a coffee with a stranger. Something must show in his gaze, because it hurts that he’s going home before eleven alone on his bike like always and there’s no way it doesn’t leak through into his face. As Sirius is about to turn away, Remus makes up his mind- grabbing hold of the keys and Sirius’ hand in the process.

Sirius can’t keep the tremor from his voice as he looks into Remus’ eyes which are oh so green. “Thought you’d almost made up your mind to leave me here babe.”

“As if I could turn down the stars just to get away from you.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ach I love these two. James is gonna make an appearance soon too... Let me know if there are any spelling errors etc as I am terrible at spotting those.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lupin gets back from his night out and goes for a walk in the park.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the next chapter :). There's a brief mention of Lupin's job but nothing bloody. Enjoy!

Lupin closes the door behind him and sinks down to the floorboards. Dawn peaks in through the glass panels set into the door behind him, softly illuminating the scene without intruding upon the moment of peace. Every inch of his body is still tingling from exposure - still settling back down to earth. 

_They’d seen the stars._

On the way out of the city, he’d clutched tight around Sirius’ waist and laughed into the wind as he drove the bike faster and faster down increasingly small lanes until they arrived at a gate with a dark field beyond it. And Lupin couldn’t remember the last time he’d come out here - it reminded him of Wales before everything went sideways. There’d been no one other than him and Sirius - and the _stars_ … They spread out up above, the entire milky way like one giant tapestry suspended a million miles above their heads. Lying down in the damp grass with someone’s hand to hold, he’d felt almost complete - almost like his heart still counted for something. 

Somehow, Sirius had looked at him and known that when he’d offered the key, it was something Lupin couldn’t turn away from. In spite of knowing the danger, Lupin couldn’t say no. Not when Sirius had offered so much and looked like his world was shattering into pieces when Lupin had hesitated. 

The reason for the hesitation sits uncomfortably in the pit of his stomach. Resting there, Lupin can’t help but feel guilt rising up his throat and threatening to spill over into his mind.

Now he’s home. He’s home after a gentle ride back, and an offer from Sirius to stay at his or drop him off all of the way home. And a kiss on the cheek which turned into a kiss on the lips and Lupin wishing he wasn’t stuck in the gutter so that he could promise a next time without feeling bile rise up in response. Lupin raises a hand to his mouth and stares up at the cracked ceiling, wondering what the hell he’s got himself into. 

_What the hell._

Pushing himself up, he drags himself to the kitchen. Talking the night away under the stars is fine and dandy, but Lupin’s gotta stay awake or his sleep schedule is gonna be _fucked_. Although the night had been warm, his hands are still cold as they start to go about the process of making tea. It’s ludicrously early to be up, but it’s also too late to go to sleep. So here he is, spooning leaves into the chipped teapot and leaning over the steam as he pours in water from the kettle to warm them up a little. 

Just as he’s set the kettle back on the stove, a buzzing starts up from his jacket pocket. And he’d be surprised at getting a call this early, except for the fact that he’s kind of used to calls from the government at all strange hours of the day. It’s as if the department he’s got a contract with only works when everyone else has left the office.

With the work they hand on to him, it makes sense that they wouldn’t want anyone else overhearing phone calls.

“Lupin.” He grumbles out, waiting for the person on the other end of the line to just get on with whatever they want before his tea goes cold. It’s probably just a debrief on the situation - he hopes it’s just a debrief as they never take longer than a couple of minutes.

But they take a second longer than usual to say anything, just long enough to make Lupin crease his forehead. It’s a smooth operation usually, and everyone moves in the same precise way like a well-oiled machine. The person on the other end of the line has never done anything as noticeable as pausing before they start to speak before.

“Sorry- I must have the wrong number! Just ignore this, and sorry if I woke you!” 

Lupin almost drops the phone in surprise as Sirius’ voice blurts out of his flip phone.

_How had he got the number?_

It’s too late to ask as the line turns dead by the time Lupin raises it up to his ear. If Sirius recognized his voice when he’d answered, then surely he’d have stayed on the line. But instead he’d run away the minute Lupin spoke the name he’d hidden away in the hope of having something normal.

Hollowed out, Lupin leaves his tea and sits gently down on the patched armchair underneath the only window in his flat. There’s two other rooms he can use to run away from himself - the bathroom and the bedroom. He leans further into the chair, content to let Sirius run away from him instead. Hopefully the other boy can run fast with the danger on his heels ready to swallow him whole in penance for giving Lupin a night to treasure close. 

The day passes by slowly without word from anyone, just like every day since he’d moved into the invisible alley on the silent side of town. Perhaps he’d regret it, if there were something else for him to be at the moment. 

Last night it had felt like there could be. When Sirius had held his hand and pointed out the dog star he was named after, Lupin could almost feel something stir in his chest - a small hope that maybe things could be different. Because he doesn’t want to be alone.

Lupin would like a person by his side, to help him pave a way out of the existence he calls a life. He’d find it so much easier to fight for a better something if that person was on the other side. And yet there’s only him in the room, and not even a truck daring to pass down the street outside. 

He doesn’t know the neighbour’s names, only that they yell at each other over cold dinner when he heads out for work. They don’t ask questions about him and he stays as far away from them as he can get. It’s too risky to form human contact outside from coffee shops and buses. Then he’d have to move house before the questions about bloodstains and odd hours started.

_And maybe somewhere with better heating, heating which actually works in the winter, wouldn’t be too bad._

Shaking his head, Lupin’s eyes grow heavy and fall shut to show him a haze of soft touches in starlit fields. He lets himself get enveloped in the warmth sleep has to offer, whilst his tea gets cold on the kitchen counter.

* * *

Like a cat stretching before it can even contemplate movement, Lupin doesn’t move from his corner of the kitchen as he regains consciousness, unaware of how much time he’d spent sleeping. Judging by the hot sun bearing down through the window, it’s probably around midday, and the strip of bright light is also probably to blame for waking him up. Lupin yawns and surveys the unchanged room.

It never changes. There’s nobody except him to change anything, and so he knows why everything is where it is. He can remember setting down the mug and the phone before his nap. He can remember the door to his bedroom refusing to close when he asked it to yesterday morning, and he can remember leaving out the dishes by the side of the sink to dry after dinner the day before. Tomato soup had stuck to the pan, making him actually have to use the wire brush for once. And the bread he’d baked one day even before that had gone just in time to be used as croutons on top of the soup, meaning there had been another pan to wipe clean.

Sighing, Lupin finally pushes himself out of the cushions and onto his feet. Falling asleep sat down for a couple of hours has left his muscles singing out their complaints, and in spite of a couple of stretches they continue to complain. He’ll grab something to eat and then head out on a walk to try and satiate them. 

_Perhaps walking will clear his head enough to think logically about the Sirius situation he’s got himself into_. 

Grabbing a pan, Lupin rustles up some scrambled eggs before leaving his dirty dishes in the sink to wash when he gets back. With keys in his pocket and the obligatory flip phone weighing down the other side of his loose jeans, he grabs a small blade just in case before heading out into the dingy alley on the other side of his front door.

It doesn’t take long before he’s got grass beneath his feet instead of paving. There’s a bounce to his footsteps which doesn’t come from his worn out trainers as he takes in the open space. There’s not much of it, considering this is still very much in the city, but it’s enough to chase away the cobwebs caused by sleep. 

Across the field there’s a couple wandering slowly in seemingly random directions, laughing loud enough that Lupin can hear it when a cool breeze picks up to carry the sound further. They’re too far away to make out anything other than their silhouettes, but Lupin swears he recognizes one of them. Shaking his head, he shoves his hands in his pockets and wonders along the edge of the treeline, skirting the edge of the green space.

He likes Sirius - he likes the guy more than he should considering how he’d only met the guy yesterday. And that’s not even what makes him want to run away from the whole relationship before it’s really started; his job doesn’t mix with seeing the same people regularly. Peter had proven that in his horrified expression when the truth had hit him after Lupin had been called out almost every night one week to clean up other people’s messes. If Sirius had that expression on his face, Lupin doesn’t think he’d be able to pick himself up again.

“Remus!”

Lupin turns at the sound of his name to see Lily pelting across the grass towards him, dragging a lanky guy with ragged black hair behind her. 

Perhaps he had recognized her earlier from across the field.

And then all at once she’s right in front of him with a grin as big as the stripe of freckles stretching over her cheeks and nose. Her voice bubbles with excitement as she introduces her husband, James Potter, and asks what he and Sirius got up to after they left the shop.

Lupin can’t stop himself from blushing at the thought of telling her about the stars and riding on Sirius’ bike-

“I think from the state of the guy we can say it was a good time Lils, wouldn't you say so Remus?” James thankfully interrupts, and Lupin smiles in relief at the same time as Lily protests about wanting all the details of their first date whilst James rolls his eyes.

After Lupin manages to satisfy her by saying that Sirius took him on his bike out of town and they had a great time, James gives him such a happy smirk that Lupin knows right then it’s going to be tricky to extricate himself from this group of friends. 

_So much for staying low._

“So, I’m guessing you live near here too? Lily and I are just around the corner above the café.” James starts up an easy conversation like it’s second nature, slipping into a slow walk between Lupin and Lily to divert any of her attempts to get more information about the new relationship.

Pausing before he answers, Lupin considers his options. He can’t tell them where he lives- that would be dangerous at best. So he opts for a vague description instead, “Not too far away, just over the other side of the fence really.”

Lily perks up at the idea that they live close together, immediately inviting him round for Sunday lunch, “Though it’s incredibly short notice as in a couple of hours - we’ve got to get back for chicken and spuds in about five minutes,” she adds on. 

“Sirius is just watching everything at the moment whilst we step out to catch our breath. There’s plenty of food.” James looks at Lupin once he’s finished speaking and the guy looks so earnest there that Lupin can’t quite bring himself to say no.

_What’s happening to his self control?_

“I’d love to, if you’re sure it’s no trouble?” His lips work almost without being told to, and no sooner are the words out of his mouth than Lily is pushing a note with their address and phone number in case he has problems finding them into his hand, even though he’s already been to the café. 

“Of course mate, see you at two!” James turns to leave after giving Lupin a friendly punch in the shoulder and nudging Lily to stop giving him an endless stream of directions so they can get home and actually finish preparing the meal without Sirius burning the house down.

For another minute, Lupin stands still, waving at the two retreating figures. Then he turns around to change into something a little nicer for his first Sunday lunch with Sirius.

He’ll leave before anyone starts to suspect anything. He’ll leave before he hurts anyone else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay safe out there! I've taken up knitting, and writing is a great way to pass the time if you're feeling productive.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sunday lunch is served. warnings for fluff in their lil family meal.

“You what!” Sirius storms across the kitchen to stare at Lily and James with his biggest puppy eyes. “Please tell me you’re joking…”

Shaking his head, James raises an eyebrow at Sirius’ antics, and the man falls to his knees, covering his face in his hands.

“Oh God… I knew it. James,” Sirius moves his hands to stare imploringly at his best mate, “How could you let me wear casual clothes when the man of my dreams is going to walk through that door in under an hour?”

Sniggering into her elbow, Lily moves past the duo towards the cooker. Starting with the large hob, she checks various pots and pans bubbling merrily away before kneeling down to open the oven. With practiced patience, she ignores the playfight developing behind her in the small space between the door to their apartment and the kitchen table, instead taking out a tray of chicken and inhaling deeply. A frown creases her brow. “Sirius!”

It takes a moment for him to respond from his current position on the floor, in a headlock courtesy of her husband. “Yes?” he asks, glancing up at the same time as James.

“This food has actually survived as well as if I’d been here watching it,” she begins, unable to keep the surprise out of her voice, before continuing, “Thank you… But since when could you cook this well?”

Shaking off James and getting to his feet, Sirius shakes himself off and puffs out his chest before answering, “I’ve been practicing, since apparently I lack the domestic skills required to survive off my own feet.” The last part he directs at Lily who huffs, and promptly directs him to keep an eye on the gravy whilst she deals with the yorkshire puddings, considering his newly acquired skill in the kitchen.

Soon James is setting the table with Sirius haunting his every footstep to make adjustments trying to ensure that _ everything is perfect for Remus _ . Because he really likes the guy and knows Remus is hopefully into him too, especially after last night when he’d leaned in - 

A knock at the door makes him leap out of his thoughts and turn his eyes to Lily, seeking her approval.

“Sirius you look fine, now stop looking like it’s a killer after you at the door and let Remus in.” There’s a note of exasperation in her voice, and Sirius tries not to think about all of the times this woman has had to deal with the trainwreck which has been his dating life as he grits his teeth and makes his way to the door.

Smiling a little nervously, Remus is sure enough on the other side of the door. And Sirius is not prepared to see the man in a faded green shirt, matching his eyes, tucked loosely into dark trousers just tight enough to show off the man’s nothing short of divin-

“Are you just gonna stand there, or let the man in!” Lily shouts from her position at the stove, and Sirius is sure he can hear James snickering in the background. 

Remus raises an eyebrow at the racket and Sirius waves him off, opening the door fully and unable to stop himself from flirting just a little. 

“It’s lovely to see you again too, mysterious biker. And I’m guessing that now I’m round for Sunday lunch I won’t be able to run away either…” Sirius smiles at the reply, pausing as he leads Remus to the table. 

“You’d never!” Sirius adds in the dramatics and blows the beautiful man a kiss, “Though I’d understand if you have to return to heaven of course,” he adds in.

“Hi Remus, glad you found us alright,” Lily wades in, tapping Sirius as soon as he’s within reach. “Sirius, can you strain the gravy? Sorry to steal you away, but I’m sure James can show Remus to the table in the meantime.”

Sirius lets himself be dragged away from the love of his life bemoaning how, “Having domestic skills is actually a curse,” whilst Remus sits at the set table opposite James.

Elbow to elbow, Sirius and Lily put the final touches to lunch: the roast potatoes are shaken into a bowl to serve them in; gravy is poured into a boat as well as over the counter; the chicken is carved by an intensely concentrated Lily who refuses to get distracted no matter how many pieces Sirius steals off the tray. The food smells so good that Sirius just stands over it all for a second, breathing it all in. 

“Right, could you start taking this over to the table?” Lily directs the question at Sirius, who’s still standing with his eyes closed to concentrate on the smell of the food on the counter.

“I don’t mind helping out too if there’s anything you’d like - it’s the least I can do in return for the meal,” Remus offers up, breaking Sirius’ reverie and turning all eyes to him. 

Lily walks over with a steaming pile of carrots, quickly assuring him that they’re fine. “It’s lovely to have you Remus, I’d almost given up on guests offering to help out in the kitchen. But we’re all good so just enjoy the meal.”

As Sirius walks over with the yorkshire puddings he leans over and ruffles his boyfriend’s hair, “I understand if you’d prefer my company than James’ of course, though we’ll come and rescue you in just a moment.”

James sputters into his drink and indignantly declares, “There’s nothing wrong with my company - you’re always seeking out my company.” Then he turns to Remus with wide doe eyes, which Sirius bets Lily taught him how to use, and asks, “You like my company, don't you Remus?”

And Remus, deadpan, replies, “I haven’t had such a great time since I last had stitches out,” and raises an eyebrow in victory as James’ jaw hits the table.

_ The guy has a killer sense of humour too? _

Sirius bursts out laughing, putting the puddings on the table before he drops them. The howls of laughter draw Lily over with the last couple of dishes, which she sets down in confusion as she takes in the sight of James staring down Remus as though he’d grown a second head in the best way possible and Sirius holding himself up by the back of a chair as he lets loose great peals of laughter. 

It takes a moment for Sirius to get his breath back enough to collapse into the seat next to Remus, and another second for him to get his breath back enough to kiss the smug grin on Remus’ bloody gorgeous face, raising Remus’ eyebrows and causing Lily to cough to get their attention.

“Lunch?” She questions, gesturing to the food in front of her. 

And Sirius can’t say no to food. So he grabs Remus’ plate and starts piling potatoes, chicken, vegetables, and anything else he can reach, onto it. Remus is chuckling as he carefully balances a pudding on top of it all, and Sirius never wants the sound to stop. He doesn’t want this to end - all of his favourite people happy in the same room on the verge of something new. There’s a hope rising in his mind that he hasn’t felt since he started waking up to a cold bed every morning where the person he’d brought home the night before should have still been keeping it warm. 

Across the table, James meets his eyes and winks. The fellow tries to serve Lily the best pieces of the chicken, which Sirius knows she’d devour if a guest weren’t here, and ultimately ends up giving her at least half of them. Once she’s been served, James fills his own plate up with enough food to feed a small army, and drenches the whole thing in gravy.

Just like that, the meal’s begun. Some small talk creeps in, but it’s mostly aimed at getting to know Remus who Sirius is quickly realising he knows very little about. Apparently the bloke works for the government doing odd jobs, meaning he’s got a steady job even though he never bothered with uni and gets called in at strange hours.

Judging from the state of his suit yesterday, the job can’t pay very well.  _ Or Remus could just spend it on other things… _

“Well, Remus you’re amid friends who escaped further education thinking that the world of work would be an easy option,” Sirius smiles at James as his buddy talks easily with the wine half-gone from his glass. It strikes him in that moment just how adult this is - he’s sitting with his best mates from school and his boyfriend whilst they talk about things which have nothing to do with pranks or jokes and eat a Sunday roast. 

_ Since when did they get so old? _

Lily huffs from the head of the table, “Well, James and I entered the world of work, but I’m yet to see Sirius actually doing anything besides riding around on his bike.”

Remus turns his head to Sirius, “Well, if you hadn’t been at the bus stop I wouldn’t have seen you, and if you’re secretly living off stolen millions then why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

He laughs into his glass, “With the way my family sees it, they may as well be.”

Remus’ eyes widen questioningly and James saves the day before he asks any questions because what had Sirius been thinking to say that? 

Nobody goes around  _ alluding to stolen family wealth over a roast dinner _ .

“Sirius, are you telling me that’s where my money went?” James does his best scandalized impression, fainting back into his chair as Lily rolls her eyes at the theatrics. 

Sirius smiles, “Wouldn’t you like to know, James. Wouldn’t you like to know…”

Just as he turns towards the table to replenish his plate with seconds, a phone goes off next to him, and he feels Remus almost jump out of his seat before the man pulls out a flip phone.

Sirius’ love has a _ flip phone in this day and age _ .

Looking nervously around the table at his hosts, and then down at the number, Remus apologetically mumbles that he really has to take this call, “It’s for work,” and then gracefully stands up to walk out of earshot to answer the call leaving silence in his wake.

Never one to be put off eating, James breaks the silence with a, “pass the gravy”. With that, quiet conversation bleeds back into the meal, and Sirius puts out another helping for himself, spurred on by Lily to get rid of any leftovers. 

After a couple of minutes, Remus re-enters and stands awkwardly in the corner. “Thank you so much for the meal, unfortunately I’m gonna have to go as they want me at the office.” Remus seems like he’s on the verge of saying something else, but that something is stopping him actually voicing the words.

Lily jumps up and rushes over to the counter, lifting up a tea towel to reveal a cake, “I’ll pack you up some pudding to take with you, it’s been lovely having you Remus and we’ll do this again hopefully with a little more notice and free from work.” 

She’s already started cutting a great slab to put in a tupperware by the time Sirius gets up, offering to walk Remus to the bus stop. 

“No, it’s fine Sirius. Don’t worry about me, it was enough just getting to see you and have lunch.” Remus protests, before Lily bustles over with the cake all in a bag ready for transit.

“And feel free to pop into the shop any time, but I won’t keep a working man busy, Travel safely!” She ushers him to the door with Sirius trailing behind like a lost puppy.

And just like that, Remus is gone again.

The man just keeps slipping through Sirius’ fingers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Stay safe out there in the wild world, hopefully the next chapter won't take too long? And I've got a plot I swear I'll introduce it eventually...


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lupin has a new target.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's discussion of murder but no actual blood in this chapter warning wise :). Enjoy!

Lupin almost runs back to his apartment rather than walking, phone clutched tightly in one hand with the cake swinging a little wildly in the other.

_ He had been so close to having something normal - to having something that he wanted. _

When he gets back, there’s no time to pause and consider all of the implications of lying his way into a Sunday lunch. There’s no time to close his eyes and remember the way Sirius laughs with his whole body, or the sense of warm comfort that draped over him when he’d sat down at the table. Instead, Lupin pushes the memory of being  _ Remus _ to the back of his mind.

As he slides on his only clean suit, the cheap material refusing to lie flat the colar, Lupin becomes what he needs to be. It’s like putting on a well worn coat that’s long since stopped keeping out the rain, but still manages to trick the wearer into believing it will. 

The door slams behind him as he exits the flat, but doesn’t make any move towards the bus stop. Lupin walks briskly in the other direction, glancing at his watch before picking up the pace. The voice on the other end of the line when he’d picked up the phone back at the flat hadn’t left any room for argument about where he’d be picked up. By now it shouldn’t bother him - being ordered around like a puppet rather than a person.

When he’d signed onto the job, he’d known that he’d signed away his humanity so that nobody else would get their fingers dirty.

Stopping on the corner between two suburban streets, Lupin shrinks into the shadows to wait for the car. This time it would be a grey volvo, and he was hardly surprised to hear the choice considering the cars were always some shade of grey. Around him, there’s no traffic, making it the perfect place for a discreet meeting and a whole lot easier to pick up the distinct sound of an engine coming from further down the street. 

Picking his hands out of his pockets and leaning out to be nearer to the road, Lupin spots the car easily. In another moment, it’s pulling up without stopping to check who he is, and the back door swings open to reveal someone else already in the backseat. Stepping in, Lupin doesn’t have time to look closely at who he’s riding with before the engine is revving up to pull away. 

Nobody notices the car driving off down the street as Lupin looks out of the window, not expecting any conversation until they pull into the headquarters.

But a small cough pulls his attention back inside the vehicle. To be fair, it hadn’t really left the vehicle any time his eyes were more fixed on the rows of privet hedge this end of the street loved. 

Lupin draws his eyes across the backseat to the source of the noise, and meets the cold eyes he’s so familiar with from this line of work. Next to him, the stranger is dressed in an all black suit that must require dedication to decide to wear in this heat. Unsurprisingly, the colour matches his lank black hair and tunnel-like eyes.

Lupin snatches his gaze away because the coldness of the stranger reminds him too much of what he saw last time he’d looked in a mirror.

“I’m here to deliver your next mission, and then you can debrief the last once this has been completed - we haven’t met any resistance in the last case you closed so there’s no urgent need to get the information.” The man’s voice is clipped, professional in a way that would make Lupin’s hair stand on end if it weren’t a feature of most meetings. 

He continues on, handing Lupin a paper envelope, “This is sensitive, hence the briefing taking place out of the office.” Even though his tone was already serious, at these words the tone of the conversation shifts. 

_ This isn’t a normal mission. _

Lupin understands what the man’s saying, and inclines his head slightly to show it. It’s then he notices the partition between them and the driver - someone really wants this conversation to remain secret.

Taking Lupin’s reply, a crease appears between the man’s eyebrows as he moves to say more. “This can’t be repeated outside of here, and so it’s not written on the paper you’ve received.” He waits a moment as if to gather up courage. “Intel has been gathered on a terrorist organisation; a far right group is gathering traction to stage a coup using the established aristocracy to give them legitimacy. Our task is to take out the more violent members of the group using information, but without letting them know I’m a double agent.”

It takes a second for the words to sink in. They explain the secrecy and pauses. They make Lupin’s heart clench because for all of the bloody deeds he’s done, they’ve never had this weight to them

A weight that ensures any failure wouldn’t end in just his death.

A weight that ensures any success would change more than just the criminal underbelly of the UK. 

The man doesn’t say that they can’t trust the people at headquarters to cover any trails. The fact that they’re in the back of a moving car having a conversation without the driver’s knowledge says it all for him.

But Lupin has to ask - he has to know if everything he’s done for this country has secretly been destroying it. 

“Is there anyone other than you assigned to this?” To his credit, Lupin’s voice is steady.

The other man sends him a sharp smile. “There’s Albus pulling strings and one other undercover operative who I’m sure you’ll meet at some point. The envelope has the ‘official details’ the old man is using to cover us. I don’t know if there’s anyone else, but don’t expect any large paychecks.”

As he finishes speaking, the car draws up to the pavement in a street almost identical to the one Lupin had been picked up in. He sighs, then nods to the driver and his new partner before opening the door to a wave of heat.

He hadn’t noticed the air conditioning when he’d been in the car, but as the back wheels disappear in the grit they kick up, Lupin misses it. 

* * *

By the time he gets back, the tea from so long ago has a skin on the top when he pours it down the drain. The cake Lily had shoved into his arms, however, fared much better. It’s sweet and light and Lupin feels so much better to have this little reminder about something good - someone good.

With the conversation from the car turning through his mind on repeat, even without opening the envelope to see what details the general knowledge of the department had been entrusted with, Lupin needs a reminder of goodness. 

Before the phone call everything had seemed so peaceful. He’d just let himself sink into the happiness of the small group of friends, getting comfortable with being  _ Remus _ , and they hadn’t looked at the scar across his face or been hesitant in inviting a stranger into their home. Sirius had kissed him in front of everyone as though he’d do it a million times again and had no reservations about showing the world how much affection he carries for Remus in his back pocket. 

Of course it can’t last.

_ Would they miss him? _

Lupin sighs and shakes his head, sliding a knife along one end of the envelope. A picture with a name falls into his lap. In it, there’s a woman snarling at the camera against the backdrop of a prison office. Turning it over, he notices a name and date written lightly on the back in pencil. 

_ Bellatrix Lestrange _

It’s dated for this Wednesday, but ten years prior. Whoever put this pack together clearly didn’t quite know how to conceal information convincingly, but Lupin notes down his date for Wednesday. It’s short notice even for him, yet given the nature of the whole messy situation, he can’t bring himself to be anything other than marginally irritated. 

Reaching in to retrieve the actual papers, Lupin lets himself be slightly reassured by their quantity. It’s just the same as any other assignment: there’s a brief description of places he should check to research the target; a separate sheet deals with their location in the curt words of property advertisement; the last page delivers a small estimation of costs. The figure that will be transferred into his bank account upon the execution is low considering the job, perhaps because large sums turn more heads higher up in the ranks. 

But it’s by no means a small sum to live off, especially if he ends up on frequent missions over the next few months until the threat is dealt with. 

Lupin turns the envelope inside out to check if there’s anything else. In neat, block capitals he finds another name. 

_ Snape _

His hands shake a little as who he was talking to, or more accurately talking to him, in the car hits him. There aren’t many people in the same profession as Lupin, and some names hold a weight behind them.

_ Snape _ is one of them.

Lupin had hoped when he’d started to just serve his time and get through the jobs without building a name, or encountering anyone who had a name. Up until now, he’s done well. But  _ Snape _ is a name with whispers of betrayal and split loyalties that speak to a brutal trail of poisoned bodies. 

And apparently he’s the only one other than Albus that Lupin can trust. 

Something like fear claws at the back of his throat at the thought of leaving someone like that to guard his back. It’s the same feeling he’d had hearing his parents yell murder at each other for weeks on end. It’s the same feeling he’d had opening the letter which had been the source of the ceaseless shouting in his home. It’s the same feeling he’d had when his resolve to protect his family broke them apart.

But the job still needs to be done.

Lupin eats the last bite of cake he’d saved before opening the letter. He closes his eyes and swallows down the fear along with the sugar. He thinks of the fire in Lily’s eyes when she’d passed him the container and James’ easy conversation and Sirius’ -

There’s something for him to fight for.

There’s someone he’d like to protect.

Lupin covers his face from the last rays of sunlight and sinks into his chair to comb through the letter; there’s a job to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the plot thickensss. I'm debating how sad to make this... Can you guess who the other undercover agent is? I probably shouldn't be allowed this much power over characters


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sirius deals with emotions - or at least he tries to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this might be the longest chapter so far? No warnings I can think of, other than vague references to Sirius running away from home, but let me know if there's any others I should include. Enjoy!

It doesn’t take long for Sirius to start feeling loneliness creep into his apartment when he closes the door. After Remus had left, Lily and James had done their best to make him smile, and it had worked. With those two at his side, smiling was easier. He’d stuck around their bubble of happiness until the night lay thick on the other side of the window, before giving them both a signature smirk as the door closed behind him. He could see the way James was gravitating towards Lily and as much as he loved those two, there are some times Sirius is perfectly happy to give them as much space as humanly possible. So he’d elected to take the slightly longer route home in the humid night air which spoke of a storm yet to break. 

That doesn’t make the emptiness of his home sting any less. Solitude has been Sirius’ shadow for as long as he can remember, even before he’d run away from one family to join one that showed him love which he’d never thought existed. 

Sighing, he moves around the small living room and past the open kitchen to his bedroom - the only room large enough to contain his personality. Sirius takes in the bright red and gold posters stuck to the wall, finding the same comfort in them as when he’d put them up as an angry teen to the chagrin of his parents. The familiar prints are smooth under his fingers when he runs a hand over them. The edges are more crinkled than when he’d run home from school with them for the first time. His fingers shake, something they didn’t do when he was younger.

Sirius shakes his head, wanting to settle the unease in his gut. Normally he just lies on his bed and waits for the moment to pass. Normally there’s not a longing for anyone in particular to help him chase away the particular brand of loneliness which has always hidden beneath the surface of his skin. Thinking about Remus doesn’t stop the shaking though, as it just makes Sirius more nervous about the possibility that he’d fuck everything up one more time.

There’s a silence to empty houses which Sirius doesn’t like. It turns the creak of a floorboard into a possible attacker, and the unlit corners of every room into traps for monsters to pounce out of. Even the gurgles of pipes when he turns the taps on make the hairs on the back of his arm stand to attention.

With every passing second, Sirius is reminded of just why he spends most of his time in the coffee shop, only pausing to return home with someone promising a good time. 

It’s always worse at night. The artificial lights never quite provide the same comfort as sunlight does. 

And Sirius hadn’t even turned on any of the main lights when he’d returned home. Instead he’d opted for the orange lamp on his bedside table, thinking that he’d only be up for a couple of minutes whilst getting ready for bed. Lying down, he regrets the decision but can’t quite find the motivation to turn on the larger light.

Instead, he works up the energy to brush his teeth and strip off into pyjamas to head straight to bed.

He wonders what Remus is doing.

_ Is he taking off his shirt just to replace it with another, or does he leave his skin naked when he slips under the covers? Does he sink into bed with the same smile of relief at another day being done as Sirius does? Is it uncomfortably hot in his place in the way which makes sleep almost impossible on nights like these when the world holds its breath and waits desperately for a drop of rain? _

Sirius runs a hand through his hair, jumping up to get changed. After he tugs on loose shorts, he wanders over to the bathroom and stands in front of the mirror above the sink, reaching out for his toothbrush. His eyes catch on his lips - the same ones that were touching Remus’ this time last night and only half a day ago. 

_ Can someone be in love after two kisses? _

Shaking his head, Sirius chuckles to himself and finally puts the toothpaste on the brush. He doesn’t look at the blush dusting his cheeks as his mind turns traitor, deciding to replay the feeling of chapped lips on his. It hadn’t been anywhere near as hot and heavy as the ones Sirius is used to giving out on first dates. In the place of the usual heat was a tenderness he hadn’t been expecting, as though Remus was trying to say something without using words.The chaste kiss at the lunch somehow still retained a privacy to it in a way Sirius finds it hard to articulate now, standing topless staring into the mirror. 

It takes Sirius a second to realise he’d left his toothbrush under the tap with the toothpaste slowly sliding down the drain. 

_ He needs to pull himself together. _

Sirius doesn’t pause as he finishes getting ready for bed, mechanically going through the motions until the duvet is pulled up to his chin and his thoughts are free to sink into whatever dream they please. Remus stays at the back of his mind throughout it all, unwilling to leave Sirius alone. 

When he closes his eyes, Sirius finds sleep easy for once. It’s right at the end of his fingers within his grasp in a way which he generally only manages to wildly grab at when there’s alcohol in his system and another person in the bed. 

Like broken shards, his dreams don’t match up. There’s Remus in almost all of the pieces though, and he’s present in a way which Sirius doesn’t question. He doesn’t question it as Remus looks up longingly at the moon and he finds himself offering to take the other boy there. He doesn’t question it when Remus is lying down next to him, illuminated by the unearthly blue light of a full moon.

Sirius finds himself running through the streets looking for someone that he’ll know when he sees them, tugging Remus along by the arm at breakneck speed. Adrenaline courses through his bloodstream creating an urgency to the situation and spurring him on. Behind him, Remus is perfectly content to be led on judging by the smile on his face. In his mind, Sirius knows that the moon is impossible to get to, but his gut tells him that the person he’s running towards has some way to bypass the vacuum of space to let him and Remus sit way up in the sky and look back down at earth in the distance. 

Then the world starts to crumble. At first, it’s hardly noticeable. Yet then the houses on either side of them start getting closer - the tiles sliding from the rooftops and splitting into a million pieces on the pavement. They’re no longer on a road, but a tiny alley which is getting harder and harder to travel down as debris starts to litter the street around them. He can hear Remus’ breath coming in sharp gasps as the man struggles to keep pace, and Sirius’ own legs burn with every stride. But he can’t stop.

He can’t go back on his promise to give Remus the moon, even as everything caves in. Amidst the chaos, he pulls Remus close -

And now they’re on a bed with moonlight streaming in through the window just like seconds ago. Remus is curled in a ball with his head cradled in the nook of Sirius’ neck. Sirius feels the heat radiating from his body as they’re skin sticks together. A welcome breeze from the open window ruffles the sheets strewn about their feet as the first raindrops fall. Tears streak the glass window whilst the moon smiles on serenely, untouched by the sky’s sorrow.

* * *

Sirius wakes up to the sound of thunder with a bitter taste on his tongue. A glance at his phone tells him that it’s still before midday, so he hasn’t managed to oversleep enough to be yelled up by anyone (Lily in particular who seems to think that he could one day become a morning person). In spite of the sleep, he still feels groggy. Wriggling his toes, Sirius tries to place the strange feeling lingering over him from the dream. Flashes of it cross his mind, and they make sense in the fact that they don’t make sense.

_ Yearning _ .

Whatever he’d been chasing in the dream, or maybe simply the very fact that he’d been chasing something in the dream, has left him with a yearning coiled up tight over his heart. In that strange vague way dreams leave imprints of themselves, Sirius doesn’t know what he’s been left yearning _ for. _ He feels as though it should be on the tip of his tongue, and yet when he moves to say it, it’s not there.

It’s gone with the night.

Rolling out of bed with an undignified grunt (who even has time for dignity before breakfast?), Sirius stumbles over to the kitchen. It’s a bombsite which Sirius navigates with the ease of practice, deftly weaving through the mess to grab at a slice of bread and slam it into his baby pink toaster. Waving a hand to snatch up some jam and a knife, Sirius leans heavily on the counter and waits for the toast. Halfway through, he snatches a glass of water and throws it back in one before refilling it and putting it next to the jam in between smaller sips. Eventually the toast pops up and he has to throw it from one hand to the other to not get burnt as it cools just enough to handle safely with jam.

It’s not much of a breakfast, but Sirius plans on dropping by the cafe to see if his favourite couple would take pity on him and give him free samples. Of course, he’ll wait until the rain calms down a little first as even his love of food isn’t strong enough of a motive to brave a rainstorm this early in the morning when he could wait it out in his dressing gown. 

Having wolfed down his toast in a respectable time, Sirius saunters to his bedroom door and swings his black, fluffy dressing gown over his shoulders. With the rain, it’s not quite warm enough to slouch around indoors without any top on. Comfortably swaddled in the fur, Sirius is about to walk over to collapse on his bed and ponder his existence for the next couple of hours when the doorbell goes, making him jump.

_ Had he ordered anything recently? _

Confused, Sirius moves over to the intercom to buzz them through, thinking through who could be on the other side. 

_ Whoever’s out in this storm must really need the pay. _

After the sound of approaching footsteps, Sirius opens his door and has to stop his jaw audibly dropping at the sight of a soaking wet Remus on the other side, nervously scratching the back of his head with a small sheepish smile raising his lips.

“Remus?” Sirius can’t stop the surprised question escaping his lips because the stunning sight in front of him definitely isn’t what he’d been expecting.

“Sorry if I woke you… Any chance you’ve got a minute?” Remus seems slightly nervous from the slight shake to his words, and Sirius steps back to let the bloke in and try and put him at ease a little.

Once the door’s shut behind him, Remus stands in the doorway looking about, eyeing up the cluttered living room and kitchen. Sirius looks at him for a moment, trying to ignore the way his soaked shirt clings to a muscular build. 

“Hang on a sec, I’ll just grab a towel for you. Then you can explain-” Sirius gestures at Remus in a way he hopes expresses the entirety of  _ showing up at your boyfriend’s place completely soaked a couple of days after meeting with no warning. _

Remus, to his credit, blushes a little and nods as in reply, his eyes following Sirius as he jogs over to retrieve the towel, and utters a soft, “thank you,” when Sirius presses a couple of towels into his arms. 

Looking at the other man again, Sirius can’t help himself asking if he wants to borrow some clothes as well. “Although I’m not complaining with the drenched lover look, I also don’t want you catching a chill in the middle of summer,” Sirius winks at Remus in a way he hopes is seductive enough to make up for the fact he’s wearing a massive fury dressing down.

Remus looks up from the towels like Sirius had just offered something far more than just some clothes, but upon glancing down at his own sopping wet t-shirt and trousers the man seems to admit defeat. “If you’ve got anything that would be amazing - sorry to barge in like this. I haven’t even told you why I’m here or how I knew your address…” Remus trails off with an even bigger tinge of pink spreading across his cheeks.

“It’s really no problem at all darlin’, we’ll have you all dry in no time. If you take off your shoes I’ll take you through to my bedroom to pick something out,”. Throwing a smirk over his shoulder, Sirius can’t resist adding, “and if your strange tracking abilities mean you’re wearing my clothes this soon into the relationship, then I’m not gonna complain.”

As he finishes speaking Remus punches his shoulder, having slipped off worn trainers as well as dripping socks, and Sirius lets out a bark of laughter. They move through to the bedroom and Sirius immediately becomes hyper aware of the unmade bed and dirty laundry scattered about. But he doesn’t pause on his way to the wardrobe by the window.

“Sorry about the mess, I wasn’t expecting -”

“Don’t worry about it, I didn’t exactly give you notice.” Remus stumbles over the words, a chuckle in his voice that tells Sirius not to worry. He continues, “I mean, I doubt you’d even need to give me clothes if I’d noticed the massive clouds before leaving and just brought a damn umbrella.”

“Well, if you’d been that clever I wouldn’t get the pleasure of seeing you model my clothes now, would I?” Sirius knows that he’s a horrible flirt, but he likes to think it’s all part of his charm as Remus quirks an eyebrow at him. 

_ At least he’s not running away this time. _

Sirius dramatically opens the creaky wooden doors and hopes that he’d remembered to at least partially organise his clothes, turning as Remus leans on his shoulder to take in the mess.

“Well, I think I’ll let you navigate this one Sirius,” Remus considers Sirius for a moment, “I think most things should fit, albeit a little tight.” Having said his piece, Remus pats Sirius on the head and stands back a little bit.

Sirius looks up at Remus, noticing their slight height difference properly for the first time and sighing as if another ten years had just been added to his age. Then he turns to the warzone of clothes he calls his closet, and ponders upon what’ll fit his tall boyfriend.

With the mystery of why and how said boyfriend is currently standing dripping behind him, choosing clothes isn’t the only thing on Sirius’ mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if this counts as a cliffhanger... but I'll get the next chapter up before too long what with quarantine giving me a whole load of free time. Stay safe out there :)


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rain outside isn't the only reason Lupin wants to stay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before I begin I'd just like to thank ya'll for reading this, it makes my day to know that people are enjoying reading this out there. There's a lot of metnioning of scars in this chapter, just thought I'd warn just in case. I can't quite believe how this chapter has ended up being the same scene, but I wanted to do the moment justice. Enjoy!

Lupin let out a breath he hadn’t noticed he’d been holding when Sirius had opened the door. And now, standing behind the man, he can hardly believe that someone he’d only met a couple of days ago is so ready to open up his home. A soft smile smooths out the harsh scars on Lupin’s face as he takes in the sight of Sirius in a dressing gown, musing over which clothes would fit Lupin best. The other man occasionally picks up a shirt from the mess of clothes and looks hard at it before tossing it aside. Deodorant lingers in the air, along with the heady scent of rain.

It feels like the rest of the world doesn’t exist, which Lupin knows to be false from the heavy weight of an envelope turning to ashes in the fire just a few hours ago.

“Here!” Sirius cries out in triumph, holding out a plain black t-shirt and some jeans. “I think these’ll fit...” Sirius sends Lupin a long, lingering glance as though trying to determine the exact size of the man’s body underneath the towel and wet clothes covering it up. There’s a note of care in his expression which makes Lupin feel heat rush to his face.

“Thanks, am I good to change here or?” The room suddenly feels a little too small, the situation too intimate for the type of nudity Lupin is used to. 

Some of the feeling must leak into his body language because Sirius is catching his hand and his face is so close that Lupin can feel his breath on his neck as he speaks. “I’ll go through to the living room and you can come through when you’re ready - feel free to hang up your wet clothes in the bathroom and maybe they’ll dry a little whilst we wait for the rain to stop.”

For the second time that day, Lupin lets himself relax in Sirius’ easy presence. Careful not to drop the towel and get Sirius damp, Lupin leans into him so that his head rests on the shorter man’s shoulder. He breathes in the smell of jam and sleep. He feels Sirius’ hand come up to his back and rub small circles across his spine. He feels the tightness of his muscles ease under Sirius’ touch and brings up his hands to pull the man closer, forgetting completely about the towel draped over his own shoulders.

Falling to the ground almost in slow motion, the towel abandons Lupin in favour of the floor. He makes a move to pick it up, but Sirius stops him just short with a hand on the back of his neck. Completely still, Lupin takes a moment to catalogue the touch as safe.

Sirius isn’t, and has never been, a threat to the hitman. Perhaps what the man represents could be a threat, perhaps if Lupin keeps letting Sirius past his defences he won’t have the instincts to cut down any threats that get close enough to touch him.

But Lupin enjoys having lips to kiss which won’t order him to commit atrocities for some greater good. 

So he lets Sirius pull him closer, regardless of the water dripping from his frame and the way part of his head is screaming danger. Lupin turns his head to press a kiss into Sirius’ neck, keeping his head rested on his shoulder. With his eyes closed, Lupin  _ feels _ rather than  _ sees _ Sirius shiver in response. He lifts his head to meet Sirius’ heavy gaze and can’t bring himself to look away.

Their attention is completely fixed on Lupin in a way that’s never happened before. Targets he slept with looked at him for his body, but Sirius is looking at him for  _ Remus _ . 

_ And Remus has no control where Sirius is concerned. _

After all, this is what Lupin had come for. His apartment didn’t bring him any comfort when he’d woken up with dawn, and neither had Lily’s foam art on top of his coffee. Wanting to have one last moment of peace before being thrown headlong into what promised to be a hellish case, Lupin had needed the same comfort he’d felt with Sirius lying underneath the stars on that first night. 

_ When did he become so dependent on someone else? _

As water begins to seep into Sirius’ skin from Lupin’s clothing, the need turns into want. Fingers trace down his spine without anything other than a t-shirt clinging tight to Lupin’s back stopping them coming into contact with the scars beneath. Lupin wonders if Sirius would still tread so softly if he could see all of the ways Lupin had been ripped apart and pieced back together again. 

_ What would he do if he knew the truth? _

Wanting to tell him something, but not being able to give him any words, Lupin trails his hand down Sirius’ arm and catches the man’s fingers between his own, pulling them under his top until they rest on the clean imprint of a blade to the gut. Their lips meet in the silence of the storm, colliding with all the force of stars and the hunger of wolves. But it’s still slow and careful; neither quite knowing the other enough to let go of control. 

Even if Lupin wants to so badly that not giving in is as painful as getting cut to pieces.

Sirius rubs his thumb over the coarse scar tissue, and Lupin watches his face for any sign to stop as he slips his own hands under Sirius’ dressing gown to find warm skin. In the darkened room, Lupin notes the way they’ve stayed perfectly still by the wardrobe, entwined in each other. Although there’s little light due to the thick clouds, there’s enough to track the growing slither of Sirius’ chest which is exposed as the fluffy dressing gown gets looser and Lupin’s hands reach further around Sirius’ back.

Huffing out a small laugh, Sirius whispers in Lupin’s ear. “I guess you’re not the only one who needs to change now.”

Lupin can hear the smirk in his voice and doesn’t think about how much he’s revealing as he strips out of his clothes, tugging Sirius closer to drop his dressing gown to the floor. In this moment, Lupin lets himself pretend that everything is normal, and that the beautiful man standing almost naked in front of him could be part of his life for more than one rainy day. Perhaps he’d come home with baked goods from the coffee shop after an ordinary day at the office, and they pretend to watch a movie whilst making out on the sofa. 

But the moment can’t last.

Lupin sees Sirius’ eyes widen at the exposed skin for a moment, before he’s tackled into a hug. Freezing, Lupin wavers unsure what to do. But Sirius is shaking slightly in his arms and gripping him so tightly that his ribcage is struggling to expand and take in air. Lupin’s own arms come down slowly from where they’d loosened the dressing gown and loosely circle Sirius, unsure what to do to comfort him. 

_ Had he moved too soon? Did he read the signals wrong? _

They stay still for a minute, and Lupin feels each second stretch out longer than ever before. Beating fast with confusion, worry, and the remains of desire, his heart sounds erratic in his ears. Rain continues to pour outside, trapping him in as securely as Sirius’ embrace. He feels Sirius take in a deep breath as he begins to unwind his arms from around Lupin. Yet he stops just short of moving away completely, instead keeping hold of Lupin’s hands.

It’s then that Lupin looks down and really  _ sees _ Sirius. He notices the concern in the man’s eyes, and the tears caught up in his lashes. Each time their fingers brush around each other there’s a reassuring strength sent through the touch, and Sirius looks up at him with a terrible understanding that speaks of broken bones and bruised skin. 

Anger flares up Lupin’s chest at the thought of Sirius in pain, and it comes out in the pad of his thumb shaking as he wipes away the tear that’s threatening to fall down Sirius’ cheek. And now he understands Sirius’ bone-crushing hug. 

Almost all of his scars stand out like silver in the low light. There’s no material to cover them, but Lupin doesn’t feel bare at all, because Sirius hasn’t asked for any explanation or shoved him away or ignored the marks completely as almost everyone else does.

Sirius is able to look him in the eye and draw him in for a lingering kiss after seeing the ugliest parts of Lupin. The sadness in his gaze doesn’t condemn Lupin as damaged goods or drown him in pity. Instead it fills Lupin with the strength to return the affection, deepening the kiss as he closes the space between their bodies once more. He doesn’t resist as Sirius moves them towards the bed, boxing Lupin in and showering him in feather light kisses. His lips are soft and careful, and Lupin can almost feel how Sirius is hyper-aware of the trust he’s been given as Lupin lets him take control.

They’re both breathing hard and Lupin feels Sirius’ expression shift as the man buries his face against Lupin’s skin. And Lupin can’t help but wish he could do this - he could have this - forever. 

Sirius moans when Lupin kneads the muscle on his shoulders, working his way down Sirius’ back. The sound sends any doubt about this relationship out of Lupin’s mind, because he’d made Sirius feel good and the man deserves as much goodness as Lupin can give him. 

_ He deserves so much more than what he has. Sirius deserves the whole world. _

Looking up at Sirius, Lupin can’t help but admire the strong lines and tumbling black hair that make up someone he thought he’d never have. With the heat in the man’s gaze, it’s a wonder they’ve got any clothes left on at all. There’s a mark on the left side of his neck which will hopefully be covered by a collar, and a mole a couple of strides down his shoulder. Sirius’ skin is clear in a way Lupin knows his can never be, even if he didn’t have countless freckles sprinkled over his body. All of the skin on display in the open to be seen is something Lupin doesn’t think he could ever tire of.

A knock on the door makes him instantly regret the lack of clothing. 

Sirius sighs, deep and long suffering. “Of all the _ bloody _ times…” he mutters under his breath, not quite pulling away from Lupin. There’s a hint of mischief in his eyes as he pulls back up, resting his weight squarely on Lupin’s pelvis. “There’s no reason I have to answer that you know…”

Lupin wishes he could melt into the pillows as James’ voice sounds through the door.

“Sirius Orion Black, I know you’re in there and I have time sensitive information!” There’s a moment of silence which Sirius uses to raise a suggestive eyebrow at Lupin, before James yells a little louder, “Mate, I’m gonna get soaked out here, a cuppa would be appreciated if you can bother to move your ars-”

Evidently having had enough of the noise, Sirius leaps up and pulls on his dressing gown, resigned to his fate. Lupin watches him leave the room before rolling off the bed to grab the abandoned dry clothes Sirius had picked out what felt almost like an age ago. He’s just pulling on the top having struggled into the slightly too tight jeans, when he hears the door open.

“Why does everyone I know think a rainstorm is the perfect weather to be walking around outside in? James, please tell me Lily hasn’t finally come to her senses and kicked you out without even an umbrella?”

“Sirius, what do you mean by everyone you know?” James replies, just as Lupin pokes his head around the door to see a dripping wet James looking incredibly sheepish James standing on the doorstep explaining that he hadn’t had time to get an umbrella when he’d left. “Anyway,” James continued in a hurried tone, completely oblivious to Lupin’s presence, “I hope you’re ready to have a visitor ‘cos Lily just texted me to say that she told Remus where you live as the poor bloke wanted to apologize in person for leaving early on Sunday. I came as fast as I could to help you clear up, and I’ve swiped some chocolate cake from the other day too, as apparently your man li-”

Lupin clears his throat and steps into the room, wanting to save James from whatever Sirius had been planning as his smile began to take on a cunning edge. To James’ credit, he barely misses a beat before yelling a greeting. Lupin wonders if all of the yelling that man seems to do does any long lasting damage to his voice.

Turning back to Sirius, James takes off his shoes and declares he needs a change of clothes. Sirius rolls his eyes and breezes past Lupin, immediately picking out an outfit from a neat pile by the side of the wardrobe. 

“I’ve got some of your stuff from last time James, all washed after Lily berated us for the swamp incident.” From the easy tone of Sirius’ voice Lupin guesses these two have been sharing clothes for longer than James has been married. The thought of Sirius and James arguing over whose shirt is whose brings a smile to his face, and he follows Sirius back into the main room. 

Once the clothes have been thrown in James’ vicinity, Sirius grabs Lupin by the arm and flops onto the sofa, resting his head on Lupin’s lap as he lies across all of the cushions.

Lupin doesn’t think about the work waiting for him tomorrow. He lets his hands run through long hair and relaxes to the sound of rain falling without any sign of stopping.

Any excuse to stay for one more moment is one he’ll take.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't even know what week of lockdown it is anymore, time has become a myth. But there's plenty of writing time so the next chapter should be up before too long... Perhaps my own inability to go outside leaked into this chapter a little bit?


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sirius and Remus spend a rainy day together (with a guest appearance from James).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was meant to be a fluffy chapter. Then a friend reminded me that angst is a thing (she's also the reason I've got this written so early, so thank you for being amazing and getting me working). It's mostly emotional, and I don't think there are any new warnings. Enjoy!

Remus stays. 

Sirius can hardly believe that he’s not imagining the fingers running through his hair. Sirius can hardly believe that Remus is sitting on his sofa. Sirius can hardly believe he’s seen the scars hiding beneath the plain black t-shirt.

It would be perfect, but James is trying to dismantle the kitchen behind them in search of tea. Apparently it’s something every household should have or something, but Sirius prefers coffee and he normally just goes to the coffee shop if he needs a hot drink. Hence, James’ current search through the back of cupboards for the teabags Sirius keeps just for this occasion when his best mate turns up in the middle of a rainstorm. Normally it only takes half the time for James to figure out the new hiding spot-

Unless he’s already found them and is just uncomfortable with the situation he’d just walked into. 

_Which is entirely unreasonable considering how last time James had walked in when someone was over he’d had no problem introducing himself before they’d been properly dressed._

Maybe he’s trying to give them some space…

A shriek of victory from James’ direction stops Sirius from pondering his friend’s motives.

“Anyone else for some tea of unidentified nature?” James asks, and Sirius can just imagine him peering over the counter at the top of Remus’ head. 

Shaking his head, Sirius reminds James, “I only buy the tea for you oh dearest one. It’s Earl Gray if you’d like any though Remus?”

Remus nods his head, before raising his voice to ask James for a mug.

_Of course Sirius just had to fall for someone who drinks tea._

James brings over a teapot Sirius is sure he doesn’t own and a couple of mugs, setting them down on the coffee table. “Do you take any milk? I don’t, but I’m sure Sirius has some tucked away in the fridge - along with sugar too if that’s your thing.” Sirius feels the hands in his hair pause in their gentle movement for a second as Remus considers the question for half a second. 

“I’ll have it black without sugar if you pour it out now; I’m a weak tea drinker.” Remus sounds almost like he’s apologising for his tea drinking preferences, and the whole situation makes Sirius smile. The fact that Remus, with so much which should motivate him to hate the world, chooses quiet conversation about tea makes Sirius smile. 

Looking up at Remus from below, he notes the way there’s a trail of stubble down the man’s neck, and how when Remus leans over to accept the offered tea, his arm doesn’t shake one bit with the additional weight. Instead he remains steady, and his eyes catch Sirius’ when he brings the cup to his lips to blow gently on. There’s a spark in them which Sirius knows is meant for him.

Across from them, James coughs a little. “So when did you get here Remus? Lily said you came in for a coffee this morning at some ungodly time.” 

Sirius had almost forgotten that James was sitting across from them, too absorbed in Remus’ presence. He watches the man’s Adam's apple bob up and down as he replies.

“If by ungodly you mean before ten thirty, then I sure did. After that I had to drop off some stuff at my place before heading over here. Sirius was just finding me a change of clothes when you arrived as I kind of left without an umbrella or coat.” Remus explains, a slightly nervous smile gracing his lips as he talks over the brim of his mug.

Sirius thinks he could listen to that voice all day, and then all night. Perhaps for the rest of his life, but that’s besides the point.

James has the nerve to chuckle, pointedly not looking at the darkening bruise on his collar bone which Sirius is ninety percent sure the doofus had spied the minute he’d walked in the door. Of course, the fact Sirius is only wearing a dressing gown and shorts really isn’t adding to any impression of modesty he could be giving. But when has he ever laid claim to having any kind of modesty?

“Yes, clothes! I should start asking you for rent on the wardrobe space you take up James.” Sirius finishes the threat by shooting James a wicked grin, hoping to get James not to pick up the subject of what may or have not have been happening when he’d arrived. Sure, the man had seen most of it before and teased Sirius senseless over it, but something about that moment with Remus in the rain felt private. Maybe in the future there’d be time for James to make fun of moments like this, but right now Sirius wants to hoard any moment with Remus close to his chest like rare jewels.

Giving one of his signature eye rolls, James holds his hands up in defeat. “Alright, alright. Point taken.” 

Sirius smiles smugly from his position on Remus’ lap and tugs the man’s free hand back into his hair, making himself comfortable. 

“So James,” Remus begins in the same tone of voice he’d used to utterly wreck James at the Sunday lunch, “I was just wondering what drew you over to Sirius’ in the middle of the rainstorm?”

* * *

After drinking his tea, James had made some excuse about helping Lily during the lunch rush and shown himself out without taking any of his wet clothing with him, leaving Sirius alone with Remus once more. As the door thuds shut, Remus looks down at Sirius with an unreadable expression. It makes Sirius want to reach up and trace the lines of his eyebrows and the curve of his lips to try and solve the puzzle of emotions there. Unconsciously, he begins to move a hand up towards Remus’ face, only stopping when Remus sets down his empty mug and leans closer so that his chin rests against the open palm of Sirius’ hand. 

He rubs his thumb over the underside of Remus’ chin. Then Remus tilts his head further down and Sirius thinks that it really can’t be that comfortable to bend over almost in half like that. So he shifts to make room for Remus to lie down beside him on the sofa, and Remus takes the cue.

Their faces are only centimetres apart when Remus settles down. Sirius takes a small breath before he moves his hand up slowly to trace the faint scars on the other man’s face. At the contact, Remus’ breath hitches slightly, and Sirius feels his heart stutter at the sound. 

His heart’s been all over the place this morning, ever since the towel had dropped and Remus had taken his hand to feel a small groove in his side. In that moment, it hit Sirius how lucky he was to be standing there with Remus; a stab wound of that size meant that Remus could easily be six feet under by now. The clean precision of the line took Sirius’ breath away - the fact that someone could have such a steady hand whilst trying to kill someone took his breath away. And then he’d seen it moments later, and Sirius had needed to let the man know that he was safe. Part of Sirius needed to know that Remus was safe. 

The scars stretching across Remus’ face are smooth to touch, and line up in almost perfect parallels. Sirius wonders how he’d got them - who would strike Remus with something able to leave that kind of mark. Perhaps some of the question leaks onto Sirius’ feature, and Remus notices, because he catches Sirius’ fingers and presses them to his lips. 

“How…” Sirius trails off unsure as to how to continue, and whether or not he should even try to. 

And Remus must have some incredible powers of perception, as he picks up on the words unsaid between them and shakes his head gently, pulling Sirius’ face closer until their foreheads meet. Closing his eyes, Sirius swallows down his unease at the thought of Remus being the receiver of any kind of violence. When he opens his eyes again, Remus has a mournful expression on his face, as though he knows something Sirius can’t even begin to guess at, and it’s unbearably sad. The expression looks like one Remus is used to wearing, but Sirius doesn’t like the way it implies that this beautiful man is familiar with a dark side to life.

Sirius knows the dark side of life, and he’d hoped someone like Remus wouldn’t have to see it. But the universe has just proved him wrong and it feels all too much like a punch to the gut.

“If you’ve not got anything to get back to, you’re welcome to stay.” Sirius tries to make his voice less harsh than it normally is, hoping that Remus picks up on the unspoken apology. 

Huffing out a laugh, Remus places a hand back in Sirius’ hair, carding through the knots and grease smoothly. He continues without answering, and for a moment Sirius wonders if he’d even spoken the words out loud. 

“I’ll stay as long as I can. Do you have enough food for both of us though? The cupboards looked pretty empty when James went through them earlier.” His reply is whispered directly onto Sirius’ own lips, sending shivers down his spine. Remus smiles with his lips so close that Sirius doesn’t really have to move to kiss him. 

And with a question like that, Sirius does just have to kiss him.

“Who do you take me for? As if I’d ever invite you to stay without any food.” Sirius touches the tip of Remus’ nose with his little finger. “I’m a functioning adult with real life vegetables in the fridge I’ll have you know, in spite of what James and Lily have probably told you.”

“That pout really doesn’t suit fully functioning adults though,” Remus replies, smirking in the way which makes Sirius do a double take every time he sees it.

Unable to help himself, Sirius barks out a laugh.

_Today’s a good day._

* * *

It’s growing dark outside by the time they’ve eaten, with the summer sun streaking the clouds a million different shades of orange and pink. The rain had stopped sometime around three in the afternoon, and Sirius had almost been expecting Remus to take that as a cue to leave. Yet, once again, the man stayed. He’s still next to Sirius, sitting above him on the sofa as he pulls a brush through Sirius’ hair.

“I never pictured you as the type to be really good at plaiting, but it suits you,” Sirius finds himself saying into the gentle silence of the room. There’s a space where the rain had been, yet Remus fills it with the tug of fingers in his hair. 

Remus hums a little, tugging a strand of Sirius’ hair into the braid. He’s got no idea what Remus is using his hair to create, but when the man had looked at him with puppy eyes Sirius hadn’t been able to say no. 

“I used to braid my mum’s hair before she went to work.” The admission is quiet - the only sound other than fingers brushing through hair. There’s a hint of an accent that Sirius can’t quite place which makes Remus’ voice sound like a melody. “Almost done now, and let me promise you it’s a step up from any man bun.”

On instinct, Sirius reaches up to touch the back of his head. 

“I’ll get you a mirror or something so you can see it if you like?” Remus asks. Sirius finds himself lost in the man’s voice as he nods absently to the question, wondering where the hint of something else in Remus’ accent comes from. 

_How didn’t he notice it until now?_

“Thank you,” Sirius reaches up to grab onto Remus’ hand as the man stands up, meaning they’re both standing in front of the sofa in the middle of the room. He hopes that Remus can hear the fact that he’s not just thanking him for the hairstyle, but the whole day - for putting up with James’ antics and Sirius’ cooking. From the smile he gets, Sirius likes to think that Remus knows.

With the sun now set, there’s a lethargic feel to the evening. The last couple of late nights are probably catching up with him as Sirius begins to feel a yawn rising in the back of his throat. He feels like he could fall asleep right here, and Remus would catch him. Having Remus so close brings a kind of comfort his empty flat can’t ever give him, even with years of trying to gain a sense of safety from paper posters and distance from his parents.

Looking almost impossibly deep into Sirius’ eyes, Remus stops his search for a mirror and pulls Sirius into a warm, loose hug. “No, thank you.”

It sounds like something final, but Sirius doesn’t want this to be an ending. “There’s enough food to make breakfast if you’d like to stay over tonight too.” The note of desperation in his voice adds a tremor to his tone which Sirius knows Remus, with his way of noticing almost everything, will catch.

“I…” Remus pauses and when Sirius pulls back from the embrace to look at his face, he sees a similar expression on his face as to when he’d tugged Sirius’ hand under his shirt for the first time. It’s as though he really wants to say something, but there’s something stopping him. It’s as though his heart and his head are pulling him apart. It’s something Sirius knows he can’t help with, and desperately still wants to help with.

“I’ve got work tomorrow morning - early.” The sadness in Remus’ voice makes Sirius’ heart shatter inside his chest. 

But that doesn’t stop Sirius leaning in to kiss the man whilst he’s still here, before he disappears once more. Because Sirius was stupid for thinking that this moment could last forever, and that someone like Remus could ever really be his.

“When will I see you again?” Sirius can’t help himself asking, a small hope still burning in his chest that this isn’t a complete ending. He doesn’t want to be left alone again, but maybe it won’t be so bad if Remus’ return is something he can look forward to.

As he considers his answer, a crease forms between Remus’ eyebrows. Sirius moves to smooth it out, but before he can a small noise of protest escapes Remus’ mouth, and he draws back. The plaits Remus had spent half the afternoon putting in place are unravelling at the edges at the same time the tranquility of the day is unravelling. 

“Will I see you again?”

The question is the only sound other than their breathing in the empty room. There’s no damn rain to cover up the unsteady rhythm of his heart. 

_Remus can probably hear it beating out of time._

Sirius closes his eyes and waits for Remus to end everything in the same way everyone always does. The only difference this time is that he’s not left with sheets to clean and the imprint of where someone had almost stayed the night like they’d said they would. Inside his chest, the hole feels just the same.

He feels Remus open his mouth to speak, but the words still aren’t coming out. The lack of any answer is almost enough to make Sirius crumble; he’d thought Remus would at least have the guts to say something at the end. Instead, the questions sound over and over again in his head with nothing to stop them ricocheting.

“I don’t know. Work’s…” There’s silence again, and Sirius finds himself a little surprised that Remus even bothers to come up with an excuse like work. But Remus continues, “I don’t know when I’ll be able to see you again. I don’t know when it’ll be safe to see you again, because there’s something big going on that they need me for. But I promise -”

And Sirius is surprised that Remus is even trying to explain why he’s moving on. Part of him really wants to hope that the words he says are true, and that it really is just work which is making it difficult for Remus to stay. From the moment he’d seen Remus look at the stars, Sirius had thought that this relationship would be different, that it would mean more than a couple of dates to forget about by the time everyone went back to work on Monday. But it seems that Remus just has a different day to go back to work on, and Sirius thinks he’ll die inside if Remus walks away now after spending a whole day together. 

“I love you Remus. For the past few days I’ve loved you and I know it’s too soon to be saying all of this but I don’t want you to go.” Sirius watches as the words sink into Remus, and the man grips onto Sirius’ shoulder almost tight enough to leave a mark beneath his top. “And I don’t know what else to say that could make you stay.”

A strand of hair falls out from the plait, and Remus brushes it out of Sirius’ face, his fingers grazing Sirius’ cheek. Sirius doesn’t move, barely daring to do anything that could make Remus slip away. Between them, Sirius’ confession burns like a forest fire.

_He’s always been a forest fire - nobody other than James and Lily stay long enough to clean up the ashes._

For another terrifying moment, silence reigns over the room. 

And then Remus speaks, and Sirius’ world shifts.

“I promise I’ll come back for you after the mess is cleared up. You don’t have to wait for me or any shit like that,” Remus waits for Sirius’ eyes to lock onto his own, “but I’ll come back for you - if you’ll still have me.”

Something in his voice tells Sirius that Remus is as serious as he’s ever heard him - that he’s speaking nothing less than the truth. It’s the one of the first times he’s heard the man swear, and the way he tossed out the word, almost like an apology, makes the erratic thumping in Sirius’ chest calm down to a more regular pace. His heart’s still beating at double the normal speed, or at least that’s what it feels like with his arms wrapped tight around Remus, who’s promised to come back for him.

The void in the middle of his lungs doesn’t hurt so much anymore. 

A whisper tumbles out from Sirius’ lips. “You deserve the whole world Remus, and if I have a place with you then you’ll always have one with me.”

It’s more than he’d meant to say, and at the same time so much less.

The upturn of Remus’ lips tells him that it’s enough. For once, Sirius has someone to kiss more than once - someone to learn in intimate detail without fearing they’ll disappear completely. Because even when Remus leaves, he knows that there’s a place for him by Sirius’ side and Sirius knows that there’s a place for himself at Remus’. 

When Remus does leave, it’s late enough that Sirius isn’t sure whether or not to call the time early or late. Standing at the door, he can’t help but feel like this isn’t the first time he’ll say goodbye without knowing when he’ll see Remus again. That thought cuts a little deeper than Sirius expects it to. Unable to help himself, he clutches Remus’ hand one last time in who knows how long. 

“Stay safe.”

The words, as they so often do when he’s talking to Remus, sound like so much more than just a warning. 

“I’ll do my best.”

And just like that, Remus is gone with one last lingering kiss. Sirius stands by the open door until the man’s back is hidden by a turn in the staircase. Then he closes it and sinks down to the floor on the other side. 

He doesn’t even have the man’s phone number. 

Sirius is alone in the flat once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really couldn't get this scene out of my head and it just got longer until I'd spent three chapters describing one day with these two idiots in love. Ach, twas fun though :). Sirius definetly had fun impressing Remus with his ability to make a French omolette at least (even if it was off screen)


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lupin heads out on his assignment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're over 20,000 words! If you'd told me a month ago I'd have written this much I probably would have laughed. But several chapters later, here we are. Anyway, there's a lil bit of gore at the end (It's not as bad as the first chapter I don't think...) and Lupin being a lil self-sacrificing to get jobs done. Enjoy!

Lupin regrets the promise  _ Remus _ had made almost as soon as he closes his door behind him. But he’s a man of his word, and now that Sirius expects him to return, Lupin has to. As his hand clenches his set of keys tight enough to leave an imprint on the rough skin of his palm, he realizes that he’s got a reason to return alive for the first time since he started this hellish career. 

_ If he dies out there, how long would Sirius wait for him to return without knowing he’s even dead? _

This is why people in Lupin’s profession don’t tie themselves to anyone with promises that are out of their control. Perhaps Sirius would wait for a month or two, but after a year he’d move on. After two years, maybe he’d be able to forget about the day they’d spent sheltering from the rain together. 

Brushing off the thought of Sirius inevitably moving on, Lupin walks through the kitchen into his bedroom. He’s still wearing Sirius’ clothes and when he breathes in through his nose he can smell the other man’s deodorant. It’s light and flowery, rather than anything overpowering. But it’s a recognizable smell - something Lupin’s done his best not to have. Lupin likes the feel of the soft fabric over his shoulders and the way the jeans don’t stretch due to their thick denim. Most of all, he likes the thought that Sirius had worn these clothes at some point, perhaps even in this exact combination.

When he lies back on his bed, Lupin tries his best not to think about the clothes he’d left to dry in Sirius’ bathroom. He tries not to think about the target they paint on the man’s back if anyone from the organisation finds them. 

It’s a while before he falls into an uneasy sleep.

* * *

Waking early, Lupin tugs on ordinary clothes that’ll blend into the crowd. Today, he doesn’t want to be remembered. Tomorrow, it won’t matter if anyone remembers him because they’ll be dead, and dead lips can’t tell anyone about the frayed edges of his suit. As with most workdays, Lupin is up and awake within minutes of waiting. He’d never tried to put off the inevitable, and the faster he gets up the sooner he can get the job over with.

In his head it sounds so simple. 

Now that he’s up, Lupin moves onto the more time consuming part of preparation - concealing weapons about his person without giving the impression that he’s heavily armed. It had taken time to learn the places clothes fold in just the right way, where the drape of fabric didn’t obstruct him trying to draw anything in a split second if need be. And now, it still takes time to make sure that the specific weapons of the day are safely tucked behind the specific clothes of the day. People passing by in the street won’t know there’s a tiny handgun strapped across his chest so that it rests under his arm, or that underneath his shirt sleeves lie knives sharp enough to cut through skin like water.

And it’s really just as well, because he’d never be catching a train to some far-flung suburb if they knew how much danger Lupin carries with him. 

Locking the door behind him, Lupin sets out to the station. When he arrives, the train’s running five minutes late, but as it’s direct there’s no problem with that; it just means that Lupin will have to adjust his timing notes by a couple of minutes. There aren’t many other people on the platform, courtesy of arriving before rush hour, and Lupin gets a pair of seats to himself after the train arrives. Sitting next to the window, he lets his eyes slide over the landscape as his mind runs over the information he’d been given on Lestrange. 

The look in her eyes in the picture he’d been given had an unhinged quality to it that sets his teeth on edge. For some reason, she’d also looked vaguely familiar. With wild black hair tumbling in all directions, it wasn’t only her eyes which gave the impression of madness. Instead, it was tricky to find part of her that seemed sane. 

_ If she’s part of the group Snape had been warning him about, then she probably isn’t sane. _

Knowing his luck, Lupin bets she’ll be a core member or at least someone of importance to the group. Which is of course why he’s travelling to the sleepy section of suburbia that hadn’t seen any trouble over the last fifty or so years. It’s not the first time he’s been sent somewhere unlikely in search of targets. And if the wider group of nasties they’re currently after likes the feel of small towns, then it won’t be the last time either. 

After half an hour mulling over the whole situation he’s been thrust into (it bugs Lupin that he doesn’t know why they’d chosen him- why  _ Snape _ and _ Dumbledore _ felt like they could trust him), the train slows to a stop at his station. One or two people get off, stepping out into the bright early morning sunshine with a hand stretched over their eyes. Lupin lets himself blend into the civilians, following as they make their way over to the car park.

Normally, this is where he’d seek out a cubby hole to observe the target from for a couple of days. A flat across from their apartment, or maybe a hotel room with a view of a dingy back alley is what he prefers. But there’s not enough time for that. Today, he’s got to come up with a plan that he can carry out tomorrow without any glitches. On top of that, he’ll have to operate with as little outside help as possible - if she’s part of the organisation Snape is currently infiltrating then back up from someone he can trust won’t be an option. 

It shouldn’t be too much of a problem; Lupin is used to working alone.

He walks a few steps behind a lady carrying a large briefcase as she slowly makes her way to the high street. The first job is to actually find Lestrange, and after that he could try and decipher the simplest way to take her out. Of course, he’ll have to wait for tomorrow to execute any plans, because that’s the date given by the envelope. Depending on if he’ll need any other supplies, Lupin will either stay here tonight or return to finish the job on Wednesday. 

His phone rings. It’s the same dull tone as ever, but it takes Lupin off guard; he’s never normally contacted on missions unless there’s an order to pull out.

Holding it up to his ear, Lupin says his name and slows his pace a little so that he’s further back from the woman. It’s unlikely she’s listening into, or can even hear, the conversation but Lupin doesn’t want to take any chances. 

“We’d like to see if it would be possible to make our order a priority so that it arrives today,” the level voice at the other end of the phone greets. Something feels slightly off - Lupin’s never been asked to move the date of a kill before. “If nobody’s home, leave the package with our neighbours at the manor.”

_ The manor? _

“We’ll do our best to get it delivered in no time. In the meantime, I hope you have a good day.” Lupin hangs up, wracking his brains for mention of any manors nearby. Being almost in the countryside, it had been no surprise to find the area was home to a large number of equally large houses. Something about the way the person on the other end of the line had said _ the manor _ , however, made it sound as if there had only ever been one manor in the neighbourhood.

Goosebumps try to rise on Lupin’s arms, but the knives strapped into place stop them in their tracks.

He breathes out.

_ Think. _

Closing his eyes, Lupin is still for a moment. It’s dangerous to do something like this while trying to blend into a crowd; he stands out amidst the beginnings of the early morning rush to work. Yet he’d needed to stop in order to close his eyes in public - people don’t normally walk around without crashing into everything with their eyes closed. And Lupin needs his eyes closed in order to picture the map of the surrounding area he’d memorised at the last minute. A manor implied something big with plenty of surrounding space for grounds. He tries to remember where had that kind of space, and comes up with only one option.

Lupin’s eyes snap open and he turns down the next right. It’s a quiet lane with detached houses on either side of the road. After the first hundred yards, the pavement peters out. From the overgrown hedgerows, Lupin gets the impression that only cars and the occasional hiker ever heads down here. Part of him longs for the feel of a long knife in his hand, in spite of the smaller weapons within reach at the flick of wrist. 

With the prospect of violence waiting at the mansion, Lupin’s glad of the thin stab vest he’d slipped on that morning. Of course, he’s ready to complete the job like always. Yet he hadn’t woken up that morning in the grim mindset he wears like a second persona for finishing a kill. Once or twice he’d had to end an assignment sooner than expected due to situations on the ground moving faster than the office had anticipated. Yet he’d always been the one to make the call to complete early.

Normally the office hated changing anything about the assignments once they’d been given out.

The sun begins to burn the back of Lupin’s neck. Despite still being well before midday, the sun is out in full force without a cloud in the sky to cover its blinding light. Lupin finds himself hoping that it’s not too much further to the mansion. For one thing, he hates having to hide in the undergrowth whilst tracing targets. It’s why he normally prefers missions which lead him into cities, as long as he’s able to reduce the risk of anyone innocent getting caught in the crossfire. Not to mention, if the grounds stretch out with high fences all around, it’ll be almost impossible to find his target without breaking in, which would be a nightmare for potential risks of both getting caught and getting lost in the layout.

_ This is turning into a headache of a mission. _

Part of Lupin had expected it to be a little bit of a headache - Snape wasn’t put onto a case because it was easy. But another part of Lupin had been hoping that his part in this whole thing wouldn’t be too tricky. He’d hoped that he’d get to see Sirius again by Thursday, and drop by the cafe to sample the latest baked goods before the weekend.

_ But would he have gone to see Sirius yesterday if he’d truly believed that this would be easy? _

Shaking his head, Lupin looks up to see a great gate about ten meters ahead. He’s too far away to make out if there’s a name anywhere. But judging from the fancy ironwork, it’s probably the place. As he takes a last step towards the place, he notices a plaque on the brick posts at either side.

_ Malfoy Manor. _

The name sounds familiar to him without being attached to any specific memory. With a mansion this big, Lupin wouldn’t be surprised if he’d heard about the owners on the news sometime. Either way, Lupin’s target is inside and he’s got to find a way in.

After a couple of minutes in which he’d realised breaking in would be a little trickier than anticipated due to a particularly secure security system, Lupin picks up on the sound of an approaching engine. From the sound of sputtering, he guesses it’s old, and not the most well maintained. Unless the owners of the manor had run out of money, which Lupin finds very unlikely judging from the meticulously updated CCTV cameras he’d found, the owner of the car is probably just a visitor to the manor, or passing by on their way elsewhere. 

It’s not his best or only option, but Lupin decides to step into the vehicle’s path when it’s too late for the driver to slow down. He hopes that the driver of the sky blue car decides to ask the people in the manor for help instead of carting Lupin straight to hospital. When he steps out, he doesn’t hope that the impact won’t hurt - he knows first hand the kind of pain to expect after collisions with oncoming vehicles. 

He needs the hit to happen just right. A heavy injury will prevent him getting up and completing the assignment once he’s been taken into the manor, while being able to walk away means that the driver wouldn’t need to call into the manor for help. Any hits near a concealed weapon wouldn’t be good either, considering the sharp edges of his knives at his wrists and the loaded gun at his side. He needs to contain the damage to his legs, where luckily there aren’t many scars for him to explain. Taking this into account, Lupin steps out onto the single track road just as the car begins to slow down to turn into the driveway for the manor. He guesses it’s going at just above ten miles per hour and getting slower by the second.

From there, things happen in slow motion. Lupin remembers to jump up onto the hood of the car at the last second, bringing his legs up slightly too slowly so that they scrape along the metal grate. The itch of burst skin makes him grit his teeth, but it’s perfect for the situation.

_ People react so much better to open blood wounds than internal injuries _ .

By the time the car door swings open, Lupin’s got hot tarmac at his back and a moderate splatter of blood at his feet. The driver approaches, and Lupin can't help but notice that he’s got hair almost as red as Lily’s.

Thinking of her reminds Lupin of the way her eyes had softened on Monday when she’d scribbled down Sirius’ address for him. It reminds him that there are people out there who won’t let this injury go unnoticed if he visits with a bandaged leg.

It distracts him from the pain for a moment, reminding him why he’s doing all of this in the first place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know a lot more about car crashes now and if MI6 is looking at my internet searches they do too. Saty safe, and avoid moving vehicles! Sirius defintely doesn't approve of Remus' methods of getting into the manor.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sirius heads to the cafe to find James.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There aren't any warnings I'm aware of for this chapter? The Broship between James and Sirius is strong in this chapter. Enjoy!

Sirius is absolutely  _ not _ moping and if he  _ were _ then it would have absolutely nothing to do with Remus’ absence. 

Or at least, that’s what he tries to tell himself when dragging his feet to the coffee shop for some much needed caffeine. He feels as though he’s walking somewhat in a dream after last night, when Remus had come so close to staying over. Groaning dramatically, he rounds the final corner and tries to concentrate on something not Remus related, and finds it more than a little tricky. Sirius isn’t entirely sure, but he reckons he dreamed of Remus last night, and then he’d been so distracted when he noticed the neat stack of Remus’ clothes by the tumble dryer that he’d spilt his glass of water down his front. If he carries on like this, getting lost in thoughts of Remus could be a serious health risk for all involved.

Tugging his leather jacket straight, a clothing choice he only regrets a little as the sun burns down with a vengeance, Sirius tries to get his shit together in the ten seconds or so he has before arriving and inevitably getting interrogated by James and fussed over by Lily. 

He really wishes for more time as he walks past the busy window and under the bright red sign. It’s reasonably busy inside the shop, as expected due to the growing reputation the place has for good cake and sublime hot drinks. A small bell announces his arrival to the room when he pushes the door open. 

James is behind the counter today, looking a little worn down with bags under his eyes. It strikes Sirius as slightly odd, because James rarely manages to look tired when serving coffee. Normally, he’s all caught up in conversation with whoever he’s serving, or starting some project secretly if there’s a quiet spell. Normally, James isn’t behind the counter when he looks like this; Lily lets him take a break. But she’s nowhere to be seen today. There are the small touches of her in the brownies swirled with caramel and the fully stocked shelves above James’ head. With the way she’d helped build this place up from the ground, the will always be small pieces of her about the place.

Not noticing Sirius’ entrance, James continues chatting to a man in a sharp suit as his hands deftly work the coffee machine. It’s only when Sirius joins the line that he looks up that his eyes catch onto Sirius. And he breathes a small sigh of relief, passing over a full cup to the man and jerking his head for Sirius to step up beside him.

Normally it’s Lily who forces him into unpaid labor.

James motions for him to take the used dishes over to the sink, and then turns to his next customer. Sure, it’s busy, yet James had served during rush hour without breaking a sweat plenty of times before, all without any help. 

What’s different about today?

Sure, Lily isn’t here. It’s still not quite enough to justify the slight shake to James’ hand as he filters coffee grounds and lifts a slice of carrot cake onto a flowery plate. Something like worry creeps into Sirius’ gut as James loses his signature grin and relaxed posture.

“James?”

He won’t press his friend for anything, but he needs the guy to know that he’s listening. And Sirius hopes that James will tell him what’s got him all shook up. 

Upon hearing his name, James glances over his shoulder, sliding a foamy mug across to a young teen along with a generous portion of cake. “Would you mind helping out until Lily gets back Sirius? It’s just this rush caught me off balance and…”

Sirius can feel the unspoken words hanging between them even as James turns to open the cash register. He has a feeling that whatever James isn’t saying is the reason he’s off balance. 

“Anything for you mate, I’ve got some free time anyways.”

“You’ve always got free time Sirius,” James replies with a chuckle, “so it’s probably for the good of the community if I get you doing honest labor.”

Sighing dramatically ( _ because when isn’t the time for dramatics? _ ), Sirius turns to the dishwasher resignedly. He doesn’t miss the gleam returning to James’ eyes, and purposefully bumps his shoulder when he walks past to collect some more dirty plates. 

They work the way they always do- with jokes and pranks piling up between them so it doesn’t really feel like work anymore. Sirius doesn’t know how much time passes before it grows quieter again, but suddenly he reaches out to grab another plate and there aren’t anymore. Fiddling with a can of whipped cream, James smiles gratefully at him. 

Seeing the almost empty cafe, Sirius doesn’t think Lily would mind too much if he accidentally reaches out to cover James’ face in squirty cream. After all, it’s a classic trick and James had practically been asking for it by bringing out the food within close proximity to Sirius. Just before he reaches across, a look of knowing passes over James’ face and Sirius can see his grip tighten on the cream.

Of course, he’s too late to avoid getting covered in the stuff, but at the last moment he turns the prank on Sirius like a pro so that they’re both caught in the spray.

_ Sirius really should have seen that coming. _

Bursting into a fit of laughter, neither of them notice the doorbell jangling to announce the presence of a certain redhead. A warm, proud feeling grows in Sirius as he notes the loose laugh James gives in such a stark contrast to his slightly tight smile earlier.

“One day,” a slightly exasperated voice says from behind them, “I will be able to leave this place in your hands without worrying about the mess to clear up when I’m back.”

James doesn’t even look slightly guilty as he leaps up from his stool to launch himself at his wife, forgetting all about the cream covering his face. 

Sirius tries really hard not to laugh as Lily holds him at arm’s length, deftly ignoring the puppy eyes Sirius is sure James will be employing. But he’s not prepared for James to forget about coming up with a quip about the situation. He’s not prepared for the low note of seriousness in his friend’s voice.

“Is…” James tails off before finishing the question. It reminds Sirius of when Lily accepted his proposal and James had been struck dumb for several days.

He looks between his two best friends, then turns away because the way they’re looking at each other feels too personal. It feels like looking into the sun on a bright day like today. It feels like something he’d like to share with someone, but doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to due to the risk of exposure.

Ending the moment, Lily nods. It’s the barest incline of her head but it sends James reeling. Sirius can tell by complete stillness of the other boy. He doesn’t know if it’s good or bad until Lily leans in to kiss James with a bright grin on her face, not caring about the mess or the customers still in the shop. 

_ What’s going on? _

Breaking away, Lily raises an eye at Sirius’ averted gaze. 

“Well, this mess won’t clear itself up - I’ll keep an eye on things in here if you guys want to use the back room to sort yourselves out.” And with that, James comes out of his daze. His gaze is still fixed in wonder on Lily as she pulls an apron on and claims the stool being the till. 

“Sure thing Lils.” Sirius can’t stop himself from rolling his eyes at the lovebirds as Lily whispers something in James’ ear that makes his friend go all wide eyed.

Making their way into the small back room, Sirius can’t help but notice the waves of nervous energy rippling off James. It’s not until James pulls the door almost shut behind them that Sirius comments on it though. Normally Lily never lets them shut the door because she knows she’ll come back to find her stock organised in a new and inventive way. Yet James doesn’t seem worried about his wife dragging them both out.

Instead, he looks like there’s something stuck in his throat. It reminds Sirius of how Remus had looked last night when there was something he couldn’t quite put into words. Except now, on James’ face, there’s no guilt.

James swallows. 

Sirius braces himself, because James doesn’t normally act this nervous about anything now that him and Lily are going steady. 

“Sirius, you’re the best mate I could ask for and heck I don’t know where I’d be without you.” He pauses, and chuckles roughly.

Sirius thinks that he can see tears at the edges of James’ right eye and his throat goes dry at the sight. But then James smiles, making his eyes crinkle in the way they do when James is insanely happy.

“How do you feel about babies?”

_ Babies? _

_ Since when did James ask him abou- _

“James. Henry. Fleamont. Potter.” Sirius pauses after each word looking into his friend’s sparkling eyes. He’s going to ask just to be sure that Lily really  _ is _ , and James  _ is really _ going to  _ be,  _ but before he can he’s swept up in a bone crushing hug by James, and it takes him right back to winning rugby matches in school and the first time he camped out at the other boy’s house.

Except now they’re all grown up and James is married and he’s going to be someone’s  _ dad _ .

Sirius looks up to find he’s not the only one with tears in his eyes. “Damn James, you really did it this time huh?”

James just laughs, his hand and his head resting on Sirius’ shoulder. When he finally stills, James puts a hand on each of Sirius’ shoulders and draws his head up to be level with Sirius.

“I - we -” James’ voice is slightly choked with emotion as he stumbles over the words, “we want you to be our second.” Before Sirius can protest ( _ because who’s James to think that he’s responsible enough to be the kid’s parent if something were to happen to his friends? _ ), James continues, “you’re my brother and basically the kid’s uncle.  _ And _ you can actually cook now so Lily will have you round every other night for dinner anyway.”

Sirius is stunned. He’s so stunned that he can’t move for a second, and he’s glad that James has his arms out because his legs feel all wobbly. And that’s definitely a tear tracing his cheek.

_ Damn James _ .

“Well, when you put it like that, who am I to turn down the chance to influence your future son?” Sirius smirks through the weight of love and nerves threatening to overwhelm him.

If when Lily pops her head around the door Sirius and James are both crying and hugging, she doesn’t comment on it, instead choosing to slowly back out again. The way Sirius’ eyes shine when they finally come out tells her everything she needs to know.

_ The baby will grow up with all the love in the world, and maybe they’ll finally finish growing up too. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy to introduce baby Harry! Well, in a couple more months at least. This time he's gonna get the proper marauder parenting. Stay safe out there !


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lupin closes in on Bellatrix.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's quite a bit of violence and guilt in this one, with a lil bit of gun violence and poisened blades. Because every assassin story needs a little bit of poisen. Enjoy!

Like always, Lupin doesn’t enjoy this bit of the job. He doesn’t enjoy having to meet the person and guess at the intricacies of their family life, all the time knowing he’ll watch the breath fall out of their lungs for a final time. Very occasionally, he’s found out something which almost stayed his hand at the last moment. Not too long ago, Lupin had been given an assignment like that, where he’d known about the children too late to stop. And even then, he couldn’t just ignore his orders in favour of morals.

He has to trust whoever it is that decides where the next bullet will land.

Looking around the dark room he’d snuck into, Lupin curses inwardly at his previous decision to throw himself in front of a car. Sure, it had got him in, but only just for long enough to spot the target reclining in an ornate armchair. He’d heard her laugh, joking about heading back to her own house after dinner so she could sample the latest chef’s cooking. He’d heard the manic edge to it, turning his blood cold in his veins. Then a man with long blond hair had sent him and the driver to a clinically clean bathroom to clear up his leg, dismissing them both as his eyes slid over their exit. 

The driver, Arthur Weasley, was slightly older than Lupin, and (after he’d finished rattling off a seemingly  _ endless _ stream of apologies) started to tell him about how he’d ended up here this morning. The guy had five kids already, and another on the way. Laughing it off, Arthur had a grin on his face when he spoke of his family that told Lupin all he needed to know - this man loved his family more than anything. 

With his leg cleaned up and only a dressing or two to show for his encounter with Arthur’s bumper, they’d walked out of the grounds without too much hurry. Lupin had gathered all the information he needed to take out Bellatrix, and didn’t need to spring into action until Bellatrix finished with dinner. So he’d accepted the invitation for tea at a cafe from Arthur, and found himself still sitting in the same chair a couple of hours later. He’d liked the man.

He’d liked him enough to store away the name for later, and agree to a dinner in the not too distant future.

With the promise fresh on his lips, Lupin had walked over to the large detached house on the edge of the village which had been the original location he’d been given. Several hours later, and Lupin’s inside the smallest room he could find, lying in wait. There’s nobody else home yet, but from the darkness outside the window Lupin judges it won’t be long until he has company.

Keys rustle in the door, confirming his suspicion.

Lupin palms a small blade as footsteps approach down the hallway. His breath even out, pupils blown wide to see in the dark. Beneath his ribs, he can feel his heartbeat pulse in a steady, quiet rhythm.

From the other side of the door comes a shuffling sound as the footsteps pause before continuing. They’re harder to hear now; she must have taken off her heels and slipped into slippers. It doesn’t sound like she’s walking fast, but instead as if she’s dragging her feet in a stumble, almost like she doesn’t quite have control over her limbs.

Lupin doesn’t like to kill people who aren’t sober; they don’t stand a chance. Only a couple of his assignments have ever gotten away, but they had all been prepared.

_ Bellatrix isn’t expecting death to visit her tonight. _

Exhaling lightly, Lupin slips through the door and follows the woman’s mass of black curls to the back room like a shadow. She collapses onto the sofa and her eyes flutter shut. In the pale moonlight, something about her face structure looks familiar - the strong jawline reminds Lupin painfully of Sirius. There’s nothing other than that to suggest the two are connected, but it still makes Lupin pause for a fraction of a second.

_ A fraction of a second too long _ .

Something beeps, and Bellatrix’s eyes snap open - too alert for someone under the influence. Fumbling for her phone, she casts a searching look around the room, stopping dead on Lupin. There’s a frown forming on her forehead as she draws a small pistol from under her skirt and Lupin’s throat goes dry as he registers the weapon, recalculating his strategy. The manic smile from earlier returns to her face, except for the fact that this time Lupin’s the only other person in the room and he’s its sole focus. 

He forces his heart not to freeze. 

He forces his eyes to meet her gaze.

He notes the model and make of the pistol and lets the familiarity of the situation relax some of the tension in his shoulders. It’s not the first time he’s had a gun in his face, and he’s sure that it’s not going to be anywhere close to being the last either. Because he’s got someone waiting for him now, and a promise to keep. _ Remus _ won’t let it be the last time. 

In a swift motion, Lupin lets the blade in his left hand fly and dives behind the sofa for cover. He hopes it’s got a reasonable structure, sturdy enough to take a bullet or two without crumbling. Feathers fly as Bellatrix curses in pain, firing blindly at the cushions. Lupin doesn’t move a muscle even to flinch at the noise of approaching bullets. He doesn’t have to move a muscle unless Bellatrix gets too close or the sofa fails as a cover. 

Because the blade he’d hit the target with will kill Bellatrix all on its own. Lupin knows people underestimate small blades, and he’s always carried one dipped in something deadly since he took up the profession of stealing lives from whoever he’s told to. 

On the other side of the couch, the gunshots grow less frequent. Bellatrix stops cursing and starts panting for breath. 

But she doesn’t stop trying to kill Lupin. 

“Fuck,” Lupin mutters under his breath as the woman rounds the corner of the sofa, bringing him into her sights.

She’s staggering slightly. With the great tangle of matted hair falling down her back, she looks deranged - more animal than human. It doesn’t stop her pulling the trigger one more time before she trips over the edge of a rug. It doesn’t stop her from screeching as she tumbles over.

It doesn’t stop her from looking Remus dead in the eyes and smiling one last time as blood blooms across his chest, dripping down from his shoulder.

Lupin’s been shot before, but it always manages to send him reeling for a second. From the burning sensation sending his head reeling, he guesses it entered just below his collar bone. Lupin doesn’t check to see if Bellatrix is dead, just puts pressure on the wound with one hand whilst the other taps a number into his phone on autopilot. 

A neat voice greets him on the other end of the line. It’s just what he’d expected and so at odds with the mess of blood and feathers at his feet. 

“Lupin. Single gunshot wound from a Bersa Thunder point three-eighty. Minimal bleeding, but shot close to subclavian artery. Target -” Lupin pauses to check Bellatrix’s breathing, “- dead. No immediate threat.”

There’s a second of silence before the voice replies. “Sending dispatch for pick up and cleaning. With you in under ten minutes, stay put.”

Lupin drops the phone the moment she stops speaking. Head heavy, he struggles to keep awake and he knows that’s bad because he’s got to stay awake until someone else arrives but the pain sears away at his control until it’s all that he knows. 

And the burning in his shoulder is all that he can feel.

There’s a fire and Lupin doesn’t know which way to turn. He doesn’t know how to get away from the heat in his shoulder. And he wishes that Sirius could be here to hold his ha-

* * *

  
  


Lupin wakes up slowly. Flashes of the fight drift back to him. Flashes of a hospital in bright white light that makes his skin crawl drift back to him. There’s a dull throb in his shoulder and a room bathed in orange. 

He doesn’t know where he is. 

Slowly, his eyes adjust to the dim glow of a fire. Warmth spreads throughout his body and Lupin wants nothing more than to snuggle down deeper into the soft mattress beneath him. But instead he keeps his mind awake and present. Because something unknown is a threat, and everything about him is unfamiliar. The bullet wound tugs at the back of his mind, reminding Lupin that he’s weak right now.

_ If he’s been captured, nobody will rescue him. And with the condition he’s in, there’s no chance he’ll escape either. _

His next breath doesn’t come as easily as he’d like it to, and neither does the one after that. It takes a couple of minutes to convince himself that there’s something he can still control - that his body still belongs to him.

The missing hours in his memory do nothing at all to help.

The last thing Lupin remembers is the pain, and that’s still with him now, even if it’s to a slightly lesser extent. At the moment it’s as if he’s feeling the wound through a curtain - as if it’s something from a far away part of his body. Part of him knows that he was in a hospital, or he’d probably be visiting hell right now. Lupin scrunches his eyes closed and hopes in vain that when he opens them he’ll know where he is and how he got there. 

Lupin knows it’s too much to ask, but can’t stop the disappointment from flooding his gut when he opens his eyes to the exact same scene as when he’d closed them.

Except, there’s a sound. Something is making a vague clanging sound in the background, like pans being crashed against each other. It doesn’t sound too distant, so Lupin strains his ears to hear more, hoping it’ll provide some sort of clue as to his location. Because he wants to see Sirius again. He wants to know that he’ll see Sirius again, rather than the muzzle of a gun seconds before deaths and seconds after interrogation. What makes him worried, is the fact that he’s normally familiar with the places the department has to send recovering workers. And nothing about the cracking ceiling above him feels familiar in any way, shape, or form.

Lupin thinks he must be really out of it, because it’s only then he notices that there’s someone else in the room. And they’re looking right at him as though they really see him. They’re looking at him as though they know him, and Lupin can’t meet their gaze. He can’t bring himself to be in that line of fire, utterly exposed by his injury and whatever drugs he’s been put on.

Honestly, Lupin sometimes thinks that he’d prefer the sharp pain to the fogginess of drug-induced pain relief. 

“Hey there. Didn’t think you’d be up so soon after…” The voice sounds recognizable, but Lupin can’t quite attach it to anybody. Or, he can’t until there’s a face framed by flaming orange hair looking down at him.

And then Lupin doesn’t want to be right, because the man had said he’d had family and kids had no place being dragged into his trainwreck. Kids deserve all of the peace which Lupin can’t afford to give them in his profession. 

The most he can do for children - for families even - is leave them alone. 

And Arthur Weasley has a family. Arthur Weasley has a  _ large _ family already, and Lupin can still remember the delight on the man’s face when he’d talked about his wife’s pregnancy. 

But he’s here, staring down at Lupin with concern, biting his lip and muttering something about people in chairs. 

Lupin wants to close his eyes again, but the door opens and his instincts scream at him to be alert. A woman, who must be Arthur’s wife judging from her heavily pregnant belly and wild red hair swept up into a messy bun, makes her way over to him.

“Is he awake?”

Her voice is warm in a way which makes Remus’ heart ache for his mother, sending him back to when she’d sit with his head in her lap and stroke his hair until he fell asleep. It makes his hands clench without his permission, causing his shoulder to spasm with pain as though someone had shoved a red-hot poker through it. 

The movement causes a flurry of movement which passes Lupin by because all he can concentrate on is the ringing pain reignited in his shoulder which is wracking his body. He feels rather than sees the couple rush about the small room, too caught up in trying to stay present in the moment without passing out.

After a while, an endless rush of agony, the pain recedes back to something manageable and Lupin looks at the two redheads. Their smiles are a little too tight for them to be used to treating people with bullet wounds.

“You with us now honey?” Arthur’s wife asks, and Lupin can’t help but wish he knew the woman’s name, along with why the hell he’s in her house. But his throat feels too sore to say any of it, so he nods instead.

Sharing a look with Arthur, the woman appears to brace herself. “Arthur picked you up before the team got there, and took you to get your shoulder treated. Dumbledore said you’re safe to tell that we’re backup for the investigation.”

Lupin doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know how to respond because these people _ know _ . They probably know about the weapons he hides, the threat he poses to their children, and the dead bodies he leaves trailing in his wake. And yet they’re both here looking at him as though he’s something worth worrying and fussing over. 

_ As if his hands aren’t red in a way which won’t rub off _ .

“You’ve met Arthur earlier - he was sent out to make sure you got the message about the location. I’m Molly, and he’s my husband.” The way she announces their relationship with such pride reminds Lupin of Lily introducing James in the park with the sun in her eyes and a fire in her heart. It brings a faint smile to his lips.

Lupin almost doesn’t hear her next words - too caught up in memories of a Sunday lunch from not long enough ago for him to have buried.

“And you’re going to be staying with us for the next couple of months. But all you need to know now is that you’re safe, and need plenty of rest after taking that bullet from that bitch Bellatrix.”

Arthur chuckles slightly at his wife’s words, And Lupin can’t help but relax into their company. He can’t help but believe Molly’s words that he’s finally  _ safe _ .

But if he’s here for the next couple of months, Lupin wonders if Sirius will know that. As he closes his eyes again, he can’t help but wonder if Sirius will believe that _ Remus _ had meant that promise made in the dead of night - that he really will be coming back as soon as this shit is over. The thought of Sirius not believing him, of him moving on, hurts worse than the hole the bullet left behind.

_ Hopefully he’ll wait. _

Lupin just hopes that what he has to give the other man is worth waiting for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Weasley clan has arrived, with a soon to be Ron. I'm trying to sort out preganacy timings for canon birthdays and I think I've got it so that it works? This is sometime around early March just before Ron is born. I love Molly with my whole heart.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A month later, Remus hasn't come back and Llily and James are in full preparation for baby mode.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Minor warning for a minor burn about halfway through the chapter which Sirius doesn't take too well, as well as a mention of his family being horrible. But that's why he's found a lovely family now cos he deserves the whole world. Enjoy!

Lily’s due in four months, and Sirius feels like he’s just about coming to terms with his impending godparent duties ( _ or non religious parent duties as he really doesn’t go in for the whole Christian thing, and he doubts James or Lily does either _ ). It’s been just over a month since he saw Remus.

It’s been just over one month since that day in the rain and riding out to the field and trading smiles over coffee. It’s been over a month and Sirius hasn’t heard much from the other guy - only that he’d looked ready to drop the one time he’d dropped by the cafe in all this time. And thinking of Remus being overworked to the point of exhaustion doesn’t settle Sirius’ mind any. At this point, Sirius isn’t quite sure whether he should move on or wait. Sirius wouldn’t mind waiting if he knew when Remus would come back. And he knows that the other man will come back. But Sirius doesn’t know how much more he can take of coming home to an empty apartment night after night.

Over the past month, he’s gradually started helping out more and more at the cafe. Lily just smiles and tugs him behind the counter whenever he rings the customer bell now, even if there’s barely anyone in the seats. More lately, it’s been James at the bar, and considering the minimal amount of space back there and Lily’s growing stomach, Sirius can’t bring himself to be surprised. After the initial shock of Lily and James having an actual baby, things settled down into a new routine, albeit one that’s constantly evolving as the due date ticks closer.

Looking around his friend’s apartment, Sirius can’t help but chuckle. There’s a rapidly expanding space taken up by baby toys sent by the soon-to-be-grandparents which had started off confined to their spare room, but been relegated to the kitchen whilst they redecorated the room into a nursery. The smell of fresh paint hangs in the air, and Sirius tries to tell himself that he’s completely fine with them repurposing the room he normally stays in for their kid. After all, hopefully he’ll have warm arms waiting in his apartment by the time the baby comes around, and he’ll be able to smother the kid in so much love and happiness that his own hurt will just melt away.

As always, James pulls him out of his head. “Oi Sirius! You done resting your pretty hands and ready to help us again?” His friend hollers down the short hall, using entirely the wrong sort of voice for a small flat. Neither Sirius or James have ever quite managed to grasp the concept of inside voices when the other is nearby, and now is no exception.

Sighing, Sirius drags his feet back to the spare room.

_ He should really stop calling it that though, because there’s a cot currently undergoing construction in the corner by the small window. _

“Could you pass the screwdriver? I think I’ve finally cracked where the leg is attached.” James is lying on the floor with his head underneath the half-finished cot from Ikea, waving an open palm in Sirius’ direction. On the other side of the room, Lily is gradually adorning the bringt red walls with stencils of tiny lions, watching her husband with a smirk.

“Anytime now would really be good Sirius,” James prods his friend, and Sirius looks around for the tool. It’s under the toolbox rather than inside it and Sirius really can’t bring himself to wonder why everything has to be so chaotic whenever James and DIY are involved.

It reminds him of the time James had taken it upon himself to redecorate his dad’s study so that Sirius could move in, and there’d ended up being more red paint on the boy than on the walls.

Having dropped the screwdriver into his friend’s palm, Sirius stretches and kneels down by the manual to see what he can help with. 

_ Not very much until James finishes attaching the legs it seems _ .

“Anyone for tea?” He asks the room. The radio burbles in the background as James grunts in response.

“Sirius I thought you’d never ask,” Lily fixes her gaze on him, “there’s a rose blend in the cupboard, and some chocolate digestives if you could bring those through too? I’m famished.”

Waving a hand in acknowledgement, Sirius exits the room again and makes his way over to the stove. He fills up the kettle on autopilot, and grabs a handful of the biscuits whilst he waits for it to boil. The tea leaves are in the exact place they always are, and Sirius smiles, because some things don’t change, and one of them is the tea in this home always being in the bottom left cupboard and smelling like heaven. It’s why he never bothers to stock anything other than the bare minimum in terms of tea; he can always just come round here or go to the cafe.

_ Will that change when there’s a kid running round the place? _

He wants to say that it won’t and he knows that it won’t. But the thing about the future is that Sirius can’t know what’s going to happen no matter how old he gets and how much of the world he sees. 

_ Will James want someone as reckless as him influencing his kid? Will Lily want someone whose family through them onto the street ruining things she’d fought so hard to build? _

Hands shaking a little, he moves to take the kettle off the heat. But the handle’s burning hot and Sirius forgot the glove so he ends up cursing bloody murder and rushing to the sink to stick his hand under cold water to try and calm down the red skin forming where it brushed the kettle. 

“Sirius!”

Lily comes rushing in, swooping down to turn off the gas and worry over his shoulder.

And Sirius doesn’t normally cry, but it’s been happening more and more often in the last month. Right now he can feel tears burn at the bottom of his eyelids and blinks to try and get rid of them before Lily sees.

Yet she’s always seen through his bullshit.

With a steady thumb, she wipes away the tear that had begun the fall.

“It’s okay Sirius, we’re okay.”

And suddenly there’s not just a fire on his skin, or a baby coming closer with every day that passes. Suddenly there’s an ache at his side where someone he’d only known for one weekend should be, and a hole which is normally filled by chasing the speed limit on his motorbike where his family should be. Suddenly the kitchen feels too big for both him and Lily and not big enough.

Lily’s arms slide around his shoulders, pulling him into a loose hug. It’s a familiar routine they both know too well for this to be the first time she’s comforted him. On the edge of letting himself relax, Sirius breathes in deeply for the first time in a good couple of minutes. But he can’t let go of everything like normal - not with Lily approaching motherhood so fast that the kid’s room is getting decorated in lion cubs.

Rubbing small circles on his back, Lily finally speaks in the soft voice Sirius just knows will be perfect for soothing the scrapes every toddler wears as battle wounds of growing up.

“Something tells me this isn’t just about the burn.” She pauses in the way that she always does when she wants to see if he’s willing to open up about what’s going on inside his head.

“Lily, I-” Sirius feels his voice cut off as though the words have been stolen like so much else in his life. 

Being the goddess she is, Lily doesn’t flinch at his abrupt ending. Instead, she squeezes his shoulder and puts his hand back under the cold water, inspecting the faint red line across his palm with a careful eye.

Then, she turns to catch his eyes. She does so slowly, obviously remembering all of the times Sirius had flinched when fixed with her gaze moments after being pulled out of the deep end. The green of her eyes always holds steady, and something of their certainty comforts Sirius in a way the embrace hadn’t.

“Sirius, James and I are here for you. I don’t care how many times I have to say it in order to drive it through your thick skull, but we’re always going to be here for you because you’re part of this family.” Lily reaches down and places Sirius’ free hand on her stomach, holding his gaze with a fire in her eyes. “You’re as much a part of this family as the baby that’s on its way, and that won’t change when I go into labor or when James is changing nappies. Even when the kid’s inevitably roped into your pranks and driving me up the wall, you’re still going to be my brother as long as I’m around to tell you so. And we both know James will kill whoever says that something like blood matters in creating a family. You’re as much his brother as I am his wife you idiot.”

The whole speech is said with the kind of intensity which makes Sirius know that Lily means every word she’s saying. He feels a weak smile break through his face like sunshine on a cloudy day as she releases his hand from her stomach to dangle at his side once more.

“Tea?” Sirius hears James offer weakly, and honestly he should have  _ known _ James would come running in here as well. 

In spite of himself, Sirius accepts the mug, and some of the tension melts out of the room. 

“And Sirius, just because it was Lily giving the speech this time doesn’t mean I’m not gonna get all emotional on you either,” James warns, grinning at Sirius over the top of his own mug of tea. It’s a new mug that Sirius had brought over earlier - one of the tacky  _ world’s best dad _ ones which he just couldn’t resist buying when he’d found out about the baby. 

Lily chuckles and mutters something about hormones which is lost into her biting down onto a chocolate biscuit. James looks like he’s seconds away from dragging Sirius out to bond over football. And Sirius feels something settle inside.

He sips his black tea, breathing in the steam in spite of the heat in the small apartment which speaks of a long, hot summer waiting around the corner. If the dates are all right and the baby arrives on time, then Lily’s going to be having the kid right at the end of the holiday just as things start to cool down again. 

They sit down on the sofa with the tea and biscuits within easy reach. Sirius notes how he’s squashed into the middle with a friend on either side, shaking his head slightly, because he loves his friends, but they could stand to learn the art of subtlety. The teapot empties quickly, with James pouring another round for everyone and Lily drinking hers the moment it’s cool enough not to burn her mouth. Taking the last biscuit, Lily moves to stand up.

“Fancy finishing the cot?” James asks, and Sirius can’t help but agree.

Because these are his friends - his family. And he’d do anything for them, even if it involves Ikea furniture and eventual babysitting. He’d do anything for them, because he knows that they’d do anything for him as well, no matter how much he’s protested over the years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love the idea of Lily and Sirius being friends? And I may or may not have been listening to lean on me while writing this so I really shouldn't be surprised at how it turned out. Anyway, hope ya enjoyed the chapter, and stay safe out there!


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lupin's stay at the Weasley's comes to an end, but not before he's been put on babysitting duty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick note, I've tried to make the timings with people getting born fit in with the canon spacings, so Bill is 10, Charlie is 8, Percy is 4, the twins are 2 and Ron is a lil baby. Molly and Arthur had Bill at twenty which is wild. The last bit of the chapter has refernces to violence and nausea, but the biggest warning should be fluff and feelings. Proceed at your own peril.

Not used to sitting around for long, Lupin had begged Molly to let him help out around the house as soon as his shoulder was healed enough to deal with the bustle of everyday life through a sling. That had been a couple of weeks after he took out Bellatrix and landed in the Weasley’s home, and almost two months later he’s still in awe of the primordial force that is Molly Weaseley. As soon as he was up, she’d made use of him as though it were perfectly ordinary to let an assassin watch her kids in the garden - although to be fair watching the twins took a fair amount of skill due to the seemingly endless number of pranks they pulled (eventually he’d given up trying to stop the toddlers, and told them about slightly less dangerous traps to set for their older brother Percy). 

He feels himself settle into a hectic routine. There’s a newborn baby now - Ron Billius Weasley - attached to Molly’s hip when he’s not getting kidnapped by older siblings. Arthur is out at work most of the time in a fairly ordinary government department, and when he’s not doing paid work he’s off aiding Dumbledore.

Lupin has yet to meet Dumbledore. Before Bellatrix, he’d never heard of the guy he’s supposed to have some kind of blind faith in at the moment. But the Weasley’s talk of him as if he’s earned their respect beyond question. Wanting to trust their judgement against all of his instincts, Lupin pushes the whole  _ Dumbledore question _ to the back of his head for the moment.

“Could you just watch Percy and the others whilst I get the twins ready for bed dear?” Molly asks just like she does almost every night when Arthur’s working late, and walks off with a twin in each arm. Although Fred and George aren’t large for two-year-olds, Lupin’s impressed by the ease with which Molly marches the two balls of energy off up the stairs.

As usual, Percy doesn’t move from his position on the floor where he’s carefully deconstructing the day’s lego construction and placing each block into the large red box by the bookcase. The two oldest kids, Charlie and Bill, are having an intense discussion about the dragons in a book series the two had forced Lupin into reading. Luckily the kids don’t need much supervision because Lupin is exhausted.

He hasn’t managed to sleep for more than three hours at a time since the meds for his shoulder had worn off. At the moment the bags under his eyes aren’t too visible, but from the looks his hosts share whenever the kids are asleep, Lupin knows they can see them anyway. There’s never been anyone to care about the way he wakes up gasping for breath at three in the morning before, or at least there hasn’t been since Peter left. And Lupin doesn’t know how to handle their concern. He hasn’t had anyone to mother him the way Molly does since he left home, and he’s never stayed with a family long enough to feel like he’s part of their life.

Against his better judgement, Lupin wants to stay. 

He wants to belong so badly in this house of patched carpets and chipped plates that’s richer in love than anywhere he’s ever been. It reminds him of the happy bubble surrounding the Potters’ café and the gleam in Sirius’ eye when he showed Remus the stars. It fills him with the warmth which is absent from the apartment he goes back to after every mission.

“Lupin?”

Big round eyes stare up at him, framed by slightly frizzy red hair. 

“Yes Percy?” Lupin asks as softly as he can. Even after being around the kids for a couple of months, he’s scared that he’ll do something that hurts them without realising. So in moments like these, Lupin smooths out his edges until he’s soft like the  _ Remus _ Sirius had held so gently in his arms.

Percy holds up a massive textbook on computers which Arthur had left out the night before and plonks it onto Lupin's knees before clambering up after it. “Read before bed?” he pleads in the same voice he uses to demand explanations about the workings of the world and piggybacks in the park. 

Lupin can’t say no to the kid - he can’t say no to any of them and he has a feeling they’re exploiting his weakness as much as possible.

Shifting to accommodate the tiny human now sitting contentedly on his lap, Lupin lets Percy flick through the pages for a place to start. The kid’s surprisingly determined in finding a specific place to start, just like he is in most things. There’s a precision to the four-year-old’s movement as he deliberately pauses over a page filled up with small grey text and jabs a paragraph near the bottom for Lupin to read out.

Clearing his throat, Lupin tries his best to make the text interesting. After five minutes, Percy’s eyes are falling shut even though the boy’s fighting to continue listening. By the time Molly returns, Lupin has a growing pool of drool on his shoulder and a warmth in his chest.

She smiles at the sight, deftly separating Bill and Charlie whose debate on dragon lore turned a little too violent. Standing up in slow motion so as not to jostle Percy awake or strain his healing shoulder, Lupin nods across the darkening room at Molly. He carries Percy up a small flight of stairs to his small room with newspaper covering the walls and settles him down into bed. Not for the first time, he silently thanks Molly for making Percy brush his teeth before she took the twins to bed. 

Back in the living room, everyone’s crowded around the sofa, with the two boys hanging off the sides and Molly bustling about in the way she does when Arthur gets home. 

“Who’d have known you’d be so good with kids, might have to keep you around Lupin.” Arthur gives him a tired smile from his place in the middle of his family’s attention. 

Molly doesn’t waste a minute in agreeing with her husband, giving Lupin a warm gesture to take a seat and guiding the last two of her kids out of the room to many loud complaints. 

“But mum, dad’s  _ only just _ gotten in and I haven’t seen him all day,” Charlie tries to reason, dragging his feet, “and I’m going to be eight this year so I’m definitely old enough to stay up with the adults.”

Bill just sighs in resignation and tugs Charlie towards the stairs. Molly yells up instructions about bedtimes and reading at their retreating forms.

Shaking her head, she mutters, “I swear those kids will be the death of me, God knows what I’d do without your help over these last few months Lupin…”

Beside him, Arthur runs a hand through his bright red hair. Lupin can almost feel the man’s brain working up to saying something and can feel the bad news settle in his bones. 

“Sorry to rob you of such a great babysitter Molly, but I got word today that Lupin’s going to be given a new case to work sometime this week.” Arthur’s voice is heavy with regret in spite of his light tone.

The words hit Molly immediately as she stares hard across the room as though trying to get rid of the orders before Lupin even receives them.

“He’s not ready yet - the wound’s only just healed enough for him to help out around the house!” Her voice is angry, but her face is kind in all the ways a mother is when she turns to Lupin. “I can’t just let them send you out like this so soon after…”

Lupin looks Molly in the eye and shakes his head. Because he knows that he’s got to go out there again until any danger of the opposition gaining power is gone. Because Percy and Fred and George and Bill and Charlie and Ron deserve to grow up somewhere safe. Because Lily and James deserve to grow old together in an award-winning coffee shop. Because Sirius deserves to have someone to come home to.

“I don’t have a choice, and even if I did, you know I’d still go out there.”

Molly looks like she wants to find some evidence that those words aren’t true and that Lupin can stay to watch her kids grow up. But a look from Arthur stops her from protesting. It’s a look of understanding and love so deep that Lupin feels like he shouldn’t have witnessed it.

“You’ll always be welcome here Lupin, even when it’s not on the job description for either of us,” Arthur replies in a tone of voice that commands the truth.

When he looks up, Molly’s nodding with a fierce look on her face, and Lupin just knows that he’ll see them again because if he doesn’t the Weasleys will hunt him down. Between them and Sirius, he’s tied to two places now - to two families. And he can’t help but like the sense of belonging it brings; it's something he hasn’t felt since joining the trade.

* * *

The next day a letter arrives addressed to him, and Lupin packs his bag. There’s not much in it considering he’d only originally planned to be away for one night at most, but Molly insists that he takes the clothes he’d borrowed with him, as well as a jumper she’d somehow found time to knit whilst he’d been staying. 

Lupin promises to return somewhere for the second time in his life, and he means it.

The kids don’t know where he’s going or why he’s going, and Lupin slips out through the door whilst they’re in pyjamas at the kitchen table because he doesn’t think he can answer those questions with a lie or with the truth. 

_ What matters is that they’re safe here. _

Arthur drops him off at the local train station, and Lupin’s back at the front door to his apartment before his clothes have stopped smelling of the firewood from last night. The place looks colder than when he’d left it. He’s glad that he’d stopped by to clear out his fridge on the way to catch a coffee from Lily and James because otherwise the fridge would have to be cleaned out.

Running a hand through his hair, Lupin puts his bag down in his bedroom. Then he opens the letter, unable to ignore the paper burning a hole in his pocket. 

He nearly drops it when he sees the monochrome face staring back at him.

Because it’s too familiar. 

A younger Sirius with eyes too hard and cheeks too hollow takes up a quarter of the page. Lupin wants to throw up at the sight of it. He wants to run and run and never look back. He wants to hear Sirius say that it’s not him on the piece of paper.

Breaths still coming out too shallow, Lupin takes another look at the letter. Except this time he avoids the eyes glaring up at him, covering the picture with a shaking hand. There’s a name which he’d not noticed written at the top of the page in pencil.

He’s heard part of it before. He’s said part of it before to a man he promised to come back to. But the first name’s different.

_ Regulus Black _ .

It’s written in italics - the kind of fancy script which normally comes from ink quills rather than led.

It only adds to the pool of nausea in Lupin’s stomach that sends him to the sink in search of water. After he’s taken enough small sips from his chipped glass and set it aside, Lupin considers just refusing to do this assignment. He’s heard of people turning down honeypot assignments and bounties on children. 

But there’s a reason he’s heard of those people; they’d turned up on his own assignment list a couple of weeks after complaining.

The urgency in Snape’s eyes when he’d been describing how deep the extremist’s had infiltrated into the organisation comes flooding to the front of Lupin’s mind and he just knows that he can’t risk being made into a target.

So he can’t outright refuse this.

Lupin hopes that there’ll be something to explain how Sirius fits into all of this on one of the other pages. But there isn't. Instead it’s only the usual mention of a property for sale (this one is somewhere central - a newly built flat overlooking the Thames). 

At this rate he’ll have to just ask Sirius outright because he can’t lie to him about this - not when it could be the man’s life at stake.

A shiver runs down his spine. 

_ Because Sirius’ life is at stake unless he gets this right. _

And Lupin doesn’t have a choice where Sirius is concerned. Or if he did have one, he gave it up when he’d agreed to watch the stars on that first night. 

So he pulls on a coat to cover up his shoulder and leaves the glass to be washed up later. At the last second, Lupin runs back to grab the envelope with all of the papers stuffed inside and slips it into the pocket on the inside of his coat. Then he sets out in the direction of Sirius' apartment.

In spite of it being almost April, the sun is staying hidden behind great billowing clouds. Lupin’s glad of his coat for the warmth, as well as extra protection in case of rain. 

_ The clothes Sirius had lent are still sitting folded on Lupin’s bed _ .  _ He probably wants them back considering they’ve been gone for a couple of months. _

Lupin shakes his head slightly and picks up his pace, glancing worriedly up at the darkening sky. It’s nowhere near night yet, but the clouds are getting thick enough to give the impression of twilight. A confused streetlamp flickers on and off on the corner of the pavement, casting strange shadows that jump to life for a second before disappearing. As if he’s looking at the rest of the world through a filter, Lupin doesn’t notice the small things he usually does; his head is taken up with trying to figure out what to say if Sirius opens his door.

By the time he arrives, Lupin still doesn’t know what words could convey everything. He’s only just convinced himself of what he needs to tell Sirius in the first place. But he buzzes the intercom anyway because he doesn’t just need to see Sirius - he  _ wants  _ to see him as well.

And Lupin has never wanted much.

So when there’s no answer he can’t help the stab of pain in his chest. He tries again, yet there’s still no reply. 

An old lady passes by, walking up the steps towards him with a set of keys in hand to open the door. Lupin steps back to let her past and a raindrop lands heavily on his forehead, only to slide sideways into his ear. 

“Waiting for someone deary? I’d ask if you’d lost your keys but I haven’t seen you around the block before.” The woman’s got a kind, old voice and the door clicks open whilst she’s speaking.

Lupin hesitates before replying. “I was just here to see Sirius in the top flat but he didn’t answer when I buzzed so he’s probably out.”

The woman shakes her head at the mention of Sirius, but it’s in the way people do when hearing their favourite child has been up to no good. Lupin’s hardly surprised that saying Sirius’ name had caused the reaction considering the charisma practically dripping off the man when they’d first met. 

“Well, I’ll let you in before this rain starts proper and you can help me with the shopping bags on my way up as I’m the floor below that rascal.”

Lupin’s surprise must show on his face as the lady chuckles before handing him a bag full of cat food. 

“Thank you Miss…” Lupin trails off unsure of how to address her.

“Mrs Fig. And it’s no trouble because I’d have put my back out carrying the cat food - normally I get Sirius to give me a hand so it’s lucky you’re here.” Mrs Fig smiles kindly at him and steps to one side so he’s got room to get through the door. 

They make their way up the stairs in silence and she gives him a biscuit when they get to her flat - apparently Sirius won’t accept any other form of repayment and since Lupin is doing the same job he’s entitled to one too. As he makes his way up the final flight to Sirius’ door, Lupin can make out the faint sound of rain on the roof.

Lupin knocks on Sirius’ door just to check that he’s not hiding inside the apartment, but there's still no reply. So he sits down beside it, trying to ignore the dull ache in his shoulder and hoping Sirius both takes ages, and arrives in no time at all.

By the time it’s getting dark, Lupin is asleep with his head resting against the doorknob.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I never thought there'd be this much fluff in this, but here we are.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sirius' world flips on its head in a matter of moments.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's no blood in this chapter, but I've still managed to emotionally hurt these characters. Apologies for a distinct lack of fluff

Sirius walks slowly back to his place feeling incredibly full of Lily’s latest craving for pizza, and incredibly tired due to James’ insistence that all of the sharp edges in their home be removed with sandpaper before Lily is anywhere near going into labor. Not for the first time, Sirius had considered pulling his mate away for a second and telling him to quit fussing over every detail. But that would make Sirius a little bit of a hypocrite considering the half assembled motorbike sidecar sitting in his front room which he’d been trying to make as baby friendly as possible. 

_ Lily’s probably the only one with their head screwed on straight at the moment… _

  
  


Sighing, he opens up the front door and casts one last look back at the night sky. There’s no sign of the rain clouds from earlier and the night’s almost too silent. In the distance, Sirius can hear loud thumps and curses. If everything else weren’t so quiet, he probably wouldn’t be able to hear even that. 

He feels the hair on the back of his neck and all along his arms stand up; a cool breeze blows steadily down the empty street.

Sirius steps into the hallway, glancing down to see if there’s any post. As usual, there’s a letter in a thick envelope which he swipes up, along with something from what looks to be his bank. He’s tempted to just rip up the heavy envelope now, or return it to the sender. Because they never make any sense and he’s long since stopped actually opening the letters from his unknown admirer - if that’s even the right word for whoever writes the daily accounts of a cat sanctuary to someone who doesn’t know them and never replies. He moves to go up the stairs, resigned to putting the letter in the box with all of the others. 

It would be strange to throw any of them away. Sirius had come close several times - most notably just after James had found out and wanted to stake out the return address. 

As he nears the second floor, the muffled curses become clearer, along with the scuffled sound of fists being thrown.

_ The sounds seem to be coming from somewhere a couple of floors up. _

_ He lives a couple of floors up. _

Sirius tenses and puts the letters in his back pocket, folded for safe-keeping. Something tells him he’ll need his hands free to handle whatever’s happening outside his apartment. It strikes him as odd that none of his neighbours had noticed the fight and tried to intervene.

Inching up the last couple of flights, Sirius tries to walk as silently as possible, praying that nobody notices him until he can figure out what the hell is going on. At the last corner, though, he hears some of the conversation clearly enough to understand some of the words.

“-don’t want to do this-”

And Sirius doesn’t hear the rest because his feet are carrying him forwards before his mind can catch up because that’s Remus’ voice in all of it’s painfully familiar soft tones. And that means that Remus is there in a fight against someone who’s forcing him to do something he doesn’t want to and Sirius isn’t about to let that happen right on his doorstep if he can fucking help it. 

Then the world stops.

The world stops as Sirius’ vision blocks out everything other than the two people in front of him. 

Remus is there and he’s _ alive _ but there’s a tense set to his shoulders as he stands frozen in space with unmistakable circles under his eyes. Sirius doesn’t want to think about the small knife hanging limply in one of Remus’ hands. He doesn’t want to think about how there’s an identical blade sticking out of the wall inches from-

“Sirius?” a voice that he refuses to acknowledge is really less than a meter away asks. There’s no tremble to the question - not even a slight tremor of fear at having a knife pressed so close to their skin. And Sirius shouldn’t be surprised because he’d like to think that he knows his brother wouldn’t tremble in front of him - wouldn’t show weakness in front of him. Because that’s the way they were raised, and Regulus probably still lives that way.

But Sirius doesn’t.

And his voice trembles when he asks, “would either of you two like to explain what the fuck is going on?” Sirius forces himself to continue. “Because last time I checked you guys didn’t know each other well enough for murder.” 

Regulus doesn’t move except to throw a glare at Remus who’s standing in front of the door looking as if his world had just fallen apart when Sirius rounded the corner. The silence lasts another second before Sirius crosses his arms over his chest in an attempt to hide the shaking of his hands.

Then Remus speaks, and the nerves in his voice make Sirius’ stomach clench.

“Maybe we should have this talk inside; it’s going to take a while.”

With that, Regulus pulls the knife out of the plasterboard as though he’s done it a thousand times before, and Remus moves aside to make room for Sirius to open the door.

“You two seem to take it for granted that I’ll happily let two people who would have killed each other from the sound of it into my home. Give me some reason to trust that there won’t be any dead bodies to ship out at the end of this and maybe I’ll let you in.” 

He needs to know before he lets them in and destroys the fragile peace he’s won over the past few years in these four walls. 

“Give me a reason not to call the police or shout down the apartment.”

It sounds too much like pleading in the quiet of the night. It sets his teeth on edge and grates against his heart until he feels raw.

Sirius closes his eyes against the world when Remus is the first to reply. Because hearing this will make everything real. And he needs to hear it.

Yet Sirius can’t watch as Remus finds the words that will let Sirius believe in him again.

Voice gentle, Remus only says five words. 

“I’ve come back for you.”

And Sirius can’t stop his hands from opening the door. He can’t stop them from tugging Remus in after him, or leaving Regulus to follow at his own pace. 

There’s no room on the coffee table, but the sofa’s clear from bike parts. It’s been months since anyone other than James or Lily dropped by his apartment, and Sirius is well aware that his whole life seems to be on show, from the photos blue-tacked onto the walls to the abandoned t-shirt he’d repurposed as a grease rag for cleaning the bike.

Nobody says anything when they sit down on the sofa across from where Sirius is pacing. 

His legs feel like they’re trying to take him away from this place - like they’d gladly run away from the wreck that has become Sirius’ life.

Remus clears his throat and Sirius wants to close his eyes and pretend that the man’s actually back for good without any knives hidden up his sleeves or secrets inked across his heart. 

“So are you two brothers I’m guessing?” he asks, causing both Sirius and Regulus to look up in surprise.

_ Remus didn’t know he’d been an inch away from killing Sirius’ brother. _

Snorting, Regulus answers. “Of course. How many Blacks have you heard of? Except Sirius doesn’t like to associate with me anymore. Not since he was adopted by the Potters, who I’m sure you’ve met if you and Sirius...” Regulus trials off, lacking the usual sneer their parents had loved so dearly.

For some reason, hearing Regulus mention his new family so flippantly gets under Sirius’ skin.

“Enough! I didn’t let you guys in to have a family reunion.” He levels the two with a glare to hide the hurt burning deep down in his gut. “Why?”

_ Why were they trying to kill each other? _

_ Why were they both here? _

_ Why can’t his life be simple the way he’s always wanted it to be? _

Shooting Regulus a look, Remus opens his mouth to answer. “I don’t work extra hours to do odd jobs at the office.” 

Sirius wants to laugh - can feel the hysteria building up ready to explode into the room. Because of course he doesn’t know anything about Remus who he’d only spent one weekend with. Because him having a steady, normal job is too good to be true. The revelation of just how little he knows Remus doesn’t hurt as much as it should, though. Maybe it’s the way Remus doesn’t flinch from Sirius’ gaze, or how his hands are shaking just as much as Sirius’ right now.

Voice deeper than normal, Remus continues, “I get rid of people for an offshoot of the government.” 

Across the room, Remus’ fist clenches as though it wants to punch its owner for telling the truth. And in that moment, Sirius realises that Remus’ version of  _ getting rid of people  _ involves blood and knives and not one prison sentence for anyone found guilty. It takes his breath away and steals the room in his chest for his lungs to expand and contract the way they need to.

Remus doesn’t elaborate on what he means, but Sirius thinks that the other man can tell that he caught what went unspoken.

Instead, Regulus explains his place in all of this mess in a voice so even that Sirius would think his little brother didn’t feel any emotion if Regulus’ eyes didn’t start to glisten as he puts words together. “I’m here because I wanted to warn you Sirius. Things have got…” Regulus pauses and rests his chin on his hand, “complicated lately. And if I’m right, I won’t live very long - few people do in our line of work.”

_ In our line of work. _

Sirius doesn’t hear what’s said next because that line keeps running through his head; Regulus isn’t the innocent kid he used to shield from their parents. No, Regulus is in the deep end and drowning.

_ He’s here because he doesn’t think he’ll have another chance to say goodbye.  _

_ Regulus still cares enough to say goodbye after Sirius left him alone in that house. _

“-and if I’m right then I’m your latest assignment Lupin.”

_ Lupin? _

When Sirius looks up he sees the two people on his sofa chatting. But neither of them are called  _ Lupin _ . “Remus, do I know anything about you at all? You didn’t even tell me your name. Even after…”

His voice trails off, unable to work past the choked sob trying to make its way up his throat. 

A hand tilts his chin up until he’s staring into Remus’ eyes. 

“Lupin’s not the name I wanted you to know me by. Because that’s the name which I’ve worked under enough to stain my hands in a way which won’t wash off. And Remus is the name I had before all of this. It’s the name I’d hoped to start a new life with.”

And Sirius suddenly understands. He understands that everything with Remus was real -  _ is _ real. He lets Remus hold him until he doesn’t feel like his world is breaking. He’d let Remus hold him forever if the man offered. And he’s beginning to think that he’ll hold Remus if he ever needs it.

Regulus breaks the moment with an uncomfortable cough and a small smile in his eyes which Sirius would never fail to miss; seeing his brother smile is something which happens all too rarely. 

“We still have things to sort out before I next run into Lupin, and then you two can hug all you want.”

Remus breaks his hold on Sirius and drags him over to the sofa, before sitting on the arm with one hand draped over Sirius’ shoulder. Then he fixes Regulus with a heavy look and speaks. “Do the names Snape or Dumbledore mean anything to you?”

Recoiling at the familiar name, Sirius wildly searches between the two for some kind of explanation. “What the hell does Snivellus have to do with this!”

His temper is something he never manages to hold onto when Snape makes his way into conversation. It had never helped that Regulus had probably looked up to Snape more than Sirius when he’d arrived at boarding school.

Regulus, always the one with more control over emotion, doesn’t miss a beat. “Snape’s the only other one of us undercover. Don’t throw about names like that - you know how dangerous they are in the wrong hands.”

Completely lost, Sirius tries in vain to decipher Remus’ reply. 

“Sorry, I just needed to know if I could - but it doesn’t matter. The order for you doesn’t mention anything about doubling, so I don’t think one of us gave it out.” Remus’ voice is more even now, and his fingers tap out a regular beat on Sirius’ trashed jeans.

“So they know. I thought they did after Bella…”

Regulus sounds like whatever his fate is, he’s accepted that it won’t end well for him. It breaks Sirius’ heart that he doesn’t understand enough of what’s going on to help him.

But he tries anyway. “Is there anywhere you can go that you’ll be safe? There’ve got to be other people who can take care of things? You guys can’t be the only people on the job.” Sirius does his best to keep his desperation out of his voice but he can tell from his brother’s face that he doesn’t succeed. 

_ He’s never had the control his family wanted him to have. _

Shaking his head, Regulus crushes the hope blooming in Sirius’ chest. “Maybe I could stay with ‘Dromeda for a couple of weeks. But one day they’ll find me, and I'd rather it be Lupin than anyone else. I’d rather have at least a little control over my death.”

Remus’ eyes go hard, and Sirius realises that Regulus hadn’t been addressing either Sirius or Remus in that last sentence. He’d been asking for  _ Lupin’s _ help.

_ Lupin, who kills people for a living in the hope that one day he can never have to hear that name again. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is enjoy the right word for this chapter? I'll make it up to these guys in the future, never fear as they'll get plenty of hugs. I love them too much not to give them some form of comfort once the angst has ended. If you're out protesting then stay safe with all of the infection risks and violence, you're amazing! There may be a whole lot of scary stuff happening pretty much everywhere, but people are doing so much good and coming together and that's beautiful to be part of :)


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything's out in the open, and Lupin doesn't know where he stands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before anything else, I just wanted to thank everyone who's reading this and leaving comments and kudos, ya'll make my day :). Having said that, there's a lot of emotion and angst in this one, so a warning for a healing bullet wound, mentions of death, and painkillers (being used responsibly cos otherwise Molly would not be pleased) is needed. Enjoy?

Plans are made and set in wax for Regulus’ last days over the next few hours. Sirius left the room to make tea at some point, leaving Lupin and Regulus alone to figure out every grim detail they’ve got to go into in their line of work. They reach the timeless time of night before Sirius comes back in with a steaming pot and sadness so deeply embedded in his eyes that Lupin can’t remember ever seeing them smile. Both him and Regulus have gravel in their voices from talking in lowered tones too much, and readily accept the hot drink.

“Do I want to know the plan?” Sirius asks as he slides the mugs across the coffee table around the scattered mechanical parts of his bike. Some tea slips over the edge onto his hand when he pushes it too fast around a wrench, and he draws his hand back quickly to his mouth.

Lupin doesn’t want to answer that question because he didn’t want to have to make these plans in the first place - doesn’t want to be the one holding the gun aimed at Sirius’ brother. 

In the end, Regulus speaks for him. “Probably not. You don’t have too, and they probably won’t even tell you I’m dead because they won’t know I am until it’s too late… But I won’t deny you your right to know if that’s what you’d like,” he finishes with a level stare at Sirius as though trying to read his brother’s mind.

“No - no I don’t want to know that this is happening. I don’t want any of this to happen even if you say it’s got to be done to stop  _ them  _ getting into power,” Sirius says, voice heavy with something Lupin can’t place. “But I won’t deny _ your _ right to play the stupid martyr if that’s what you’d like,” he mockingly continues, parroting Regulus’ words back to him.

Regulus just stares ahead, hand clenched tightly around his mug hard enough to turn his already pale knuckles completely white. Then, a moment later, he stands up to make for the door in a couple of long strides with his still damp coat leaving a damp patch on the sofa behind him. Unmoving, Sirius lets his head hang down over the last of the steaming teapot. 

He doesn’t say anything until Regulus reaches out for the door handle. Lupin feels his blood freeze in his veins because that can’t be the last thing they say to each other.

_ Because this can’t be the last time Sirius sees his little brother - no matter how much bad blood there is between the two _ .

Jumping up, Sirius knocks over the tea and it smashes onto the floor in seemingly slow motion as he runs the few paces over to the door - over to Regulus.

“Wait!” he yells, voice cracking in a way that tears Lupin’s heart in two, “I’m sorry Reg.” 

A laugh that sounds like choked sobs comes from the doorway by way of reply. 

But Sirius ploughs straight on, “I’m sorry I didn’t protect you. I left you there and this is what’s happened - you should be in my place. Hell, you would be in my place if I hadn’t…”

In the moment of silence after Sirius trails off, Lupin practically feels the temperature of the room drop. 

Regulus gives a last humourless laugh. 

“But you didn’t, did you? And I can’t hate you for finding a way out no matter how hard I try.”

And he’s gones, the door swinging decisively shut behind Regulus with a loud crack.

Lupin does his best not to flinch as the dead tone of Regulus’ last words reverberate around the apartment. 

Sirius flinches like he’s the one with a bullet wound throbbing in his shoulder.

And neither of them say a word to each other until the words spoken have finally sunk into their bones and left an imprint on their hearts.

Finally, it’s Sirius who speaks. “Stay?” he asks in a voice so small that Lupin could cradle it in his palm and protect it from the world - from ever sounding that empty ever again.

Of course, Lupin stays. Except, when he pulls Sirius’ slightly shaking shoulders close it’s  _ Remus  _ who reaches out to try and hold them steady. Because it’s Lupin and his job that had landed Sirius in all of this mess, and he doesn’t want Sirius to feel comfort in the hands of a killer right now. More than anything, he wants to wash off all of the blood and tear that title from his skin.

So Remus holds Sirius close and stays, unmoving, whilst Sirius pulls himself together.

_ And if it takes forever for that to happen, then Remus can’t think of anyone who he’d rather spend eternity with. _

“You tired of all this yet?” Sirius asks, seemingly to himself as much as Remus.

His hands tightens its grip on Sirius’s shoulder before letting it go and guiding himself to the floor where Sirius crouches down slowly to sit with him. “I was tired of it practically the moment I signed up, but it wasn’t like I had a choice. After this though, I don’t think I can continue.” Remus shafts to look Sirius in the face, “I shouldn’t have to continue after this. Not when I’ve got promises to keep.”

As if gingerly raising a hand to stroke something capable of biting it off, Sirius reaches out to Remus to touch the side of his face. He pushes into the contact, in love with the feel of Sirius’ rough hand on the beginnings of stubble. And Sirius doesn’t pull back as Remus leans forward. Instead he leans in just as much until their foreheads rest together and every breath Remus takes blows a stray strand of Sirius’ hair out from its place tucked behind his ear. 

They stay like that, with only their own bodies between them, for a while before either summons up any inclination to move.

Remus can’t stop words from bubbling up from his heart trying to ask something in the silence of the night. “Do you…”

But his throat constricts and stops him short of finishing the question.

“Want to talk about how my only brother is going to die because I made stupid choices at every chance I got without thinking about where it would leave him?” Sirius finishes bitterly. “No. No I don’t.”

Even as he says the words, Sirius draws himself back and stands up, putting distance between them which makes Remus’ gut ache.

_ How can Sirius think that he’s to blame? I fanything, he’s the most innocent out of them all _ .

“None of this is because of you Sirius. It’s not your job - I dragged you into this when I should have known better. I should know by now that this never ends well,” Remus’ voice shrinks as he speaks, but he manages to hold steady until the end when he sees Sirius turn to face him with eyes on fire.

Sirius doesn’t let Remus pause for breath before he crashes into him and then Remus can’t think beyond the pain flaring up in his shoulder feeling like boiling water is being poured over his skin over an ugly bruise that’s nowhere near healing from the last impact.

He barely manages to hear Sirius’ words even though he’s almost yelling.

“ _ But it was my job! It was my job because I’m his olderbrother for fuck’s sa- _ ” Remus doesn’t see Sirius’ face fall as his vision swims and he gasps for air with the stinging pain that doesn’t seem to get any better as more seconds pass. He doesn’t see Sirius reach out to catch him when he loses his footing.

But he feels warm arms around him and that’s enough to focus on apart from the pain. It’s enough to get his lungs working and his vision to stop blurring. It’s enough to let him see the terror on Sirius’ face, and even with the hot pain searing through his brain, Remus knows that’s not right. Because he's the person Remus is meant to make smile, not bring to tears.

So he grimaces through working out how his mouth works, “I should have told you I’ve got a small bullet wound in that shoulder,” and flicks his eyes to the offending side.

Sirius’ face changes to accommodate a hint of exasperation and he mutters, “Of course you do,” under his breath.

Remus lets himself relax, before realising that Sirius is still speaking. He focuses again on the words as they shift into something that makes sense.

“-not dying on me are you? ‘ _ Cos I swear to Hell you promised to come back! Of course you got bloody shot. Of fucking course! _ Can you hear me? Blink or say something Remus - I’m not letting you just die because I’m an  _ idiot _ without any control over my temper!”

Nodding, Remus almost opens his mouth to say something, except Sirius gets there first, “What can I do to stop the pain? Or do I need to get bandages? I think I’ve got stitches here somewhere - unless you’re allowed to go to hospitals with questionable wounds like the one you wound up with?”

Remus almost wants to cry with laughter at the questions spouting forth out of Sirius’ mouth. Instead, he tries to answer them in one fell swoop, “Check if there’s fresh blood on the outside of the bandage first. It shouldn’t have opened but…” Remus trails off as a fresh wave of pain takes away his concentration for seemingly no reason other than liking causing him to suffer.

“Okay, okay. I’m just going to slide your top off - actually I’m going to cut it cos there’s no way I can get it off without moving you,” Sirius says, standing up. Remus almost reaches out to tell him to stay even though the man’s only going over to the kitchen. 

But he’s back in a moment, and sliding scissors through the fabric of Remus’ shirt a second later. When he gets to the shoulder, his hands don’t even shake. They work neatly as they pull back the final bit of fabric to reveal the bandages Molly had spent hours putting meticulously into place just before Remus had left. They don’t betray the sadness on Sirius’ face as the man sees the wound.

“Blood?” asks Remus, trying to keep his voice even as much for Sirius’ sake as his own. 

Sirius shakes his head and Remus breathes out a massive sigh which leaves him wincing. “Thank fuck,” he mutters through the attack on his nerves.

“I don’t have any strong painkillers - only thing in the cupboard’s paracetamol and ibuprofen. Something tells me they’re not gonna cut it?” Sirius probes, obviously looking for some guidance on how to handle the situation.

_ He’s doing considerably well for his first time dealing with the after effects of bullet wounds. Or at least, hopefully it’s his first time. _

“There’s something stronger in my pocket, I’ll get them out if you get some water to swallow them down,” Remus explains, and as soon as the words are out of his mouth Sirius jumps up and rushes off to the kitchen without a question.

Mentally preparing himself for a fresh onslaught of pain, Remus uses his good arm to fish out the small box he’s learnt to keep with him at all times when still in recovery from things like bullets and blades. It strikes him as odd that it’s only after he’s left Molly's watchful gaze that his shoulder has begun to act up; he’d not taken any painkillers other than the odd ibuprofen for the last two weeks.

Perhaps it had just been the sudden impact, combined with a less than ideal napping position earlier, having just carried bags laden with cat food up several flights of stairs. It’s a simple explanation which Remus would accept if his life had ever been simple. 

Walking as fast as possible without spilling the glass of water, Sirius re-enters his vision. 

“Can you hold the glass or -” 

Remus shakes his head because he can’t promise he won’t just spill the glass the moment Sirius hands it over. So, Sirius waits for Remus to take the pill before swooping down and tipping the glass gently towards him. It’s not perfect, and some water spills out even with Sirius’ steady hands, but it does the trick.

_ He just has to wait for the drugs to kick in and then he’ll be able to move without his head screaming. _

Gritting his teeth, Remus steadies himself with Sirius’ presence never faltering at his side. Having someone as solid as Sirius right there helps in ways Remus thought were reserved for the bustling sanctuary of the Burrow with six kids running about and a woman with unshifting resolve in her every move. Having Sirius there gets him through the worst of it until the drugs do kick in and lend a blurry numbness to the world.

Remus grimaces at the lack of control he has in this state.

“Still hurts?” asks Sirius, mistaking the grimace for a look of pain. 

Sighing, Remus shakes his head and moves to stand up shakily. Sirius reaches out and studies him a second later, looking around for a place to go.

“I don’t think you’re gonna get far like this. Take my bed and I’ll sleep on the sofa,” Sirius muses. In spite of himself, Remus finds himself agreeing that getting anywhere right now would require effort he should put into recovery. So he nods, and lets Sirius guide him over to his bedroom.

Then it hits Remus that he should probably get in contact with Molly at some point to check the wound’s healing over alright - the last thing he needs is to take another week out for recovery. “Remind me to make a call tomorrow as there’s someone who should probably take a look under the bandages,” he tells Sirius, who huffs and sits down on the bed at the same time Remus does.

“I don’t suppose I should have their number in case you try to keel over during the night? Or we could ring them now just in cas-” Remus cuts him off with a pointed look at his watch.

“Considering they’ve got a newborn in the house, I’m not sure they’d appreciate the interruption to their sleep,” he says, a smile evident in his voice as he talks about the Weasleys. “But their number is listed as the estate agent in the envelope I brought round if you need it.”

Sirius shakes his head with a smile that makes Remus’ heart ache. “Of bloody course it is…” he mutters, running a hand through his hair.

“I suppose I should let you get some sleep then. You know where everything is?” Sirius asks, standing up and making his way over to the door. Remus nods, and Sirius turns on his blinding smile once more. “Nice. There are some clothes I never got to give you back from when it rained hanging in the wardrobe, but you can help yourself to anything.”

As he turns to leave the room, Remus feels a cold where the man had previously been by his side.

_ And he knows how uncomfortable sofas are _ .

It feels wrong to sleep on Sirius’ insanely soft mattress whilst the other man takes the sofa,  _ especially when Sirius had every reason to hate Remus right now. _

_ Maybe he’s doing it because he can’t stand being close to a killer - to the person under orders to kill his brother. _

Still, Remus finds himself leaning forward towards where Sirius is standing. “Stay? You don’t have to stay out on the sofa for me,” he utters in a voice that feels too small for what he’s saying.

Still at the door, Sirius hesitates and turns to face Remus with conflict written on every feature of his handsome face.

A moment of silence passes in the dead of night between the two. Remus doesn’t break it for fear of losing Sirius, and Sirius just stands there with Remus’ heart in his hands.

“I don’t - I don’t know if  _ I _ can though,” Sirius breaks the quiet, making Remus’ breath hitch. “Do you enjoy it? Your job, I mean,” he asks in a voice so slight that Remus barely manages to pick up the question.

He doesn’t even have to think of his reply, because Remus had never had any choice regarding his recruitment - not after what his dad had done. “If I had the choice, I’d be in a quiet village near Brecon and the only blood on my hands would be from the butcher’s,” Remus pauses for a moment and closes his eyes to imagine the mountains rising up on either side of the valley and the wind dragging droplets of rain into his hair. “I don’t enjoy it, and I think that’s why they trust me to do it right.”

The words fall into the gap between them and lie inside the crooked floorboards. 

Sirius doesn’t add his own words to the room, but walks over and presses a kiss to Remus’ forehead.

It’s a kiss that speaks of hope and change and  _ home _ .

It tells Remus that Sirius has decided to stay - that he’s not alone.

And that brings a light to his eyes which is entirely Remus’. In that moment, Lupin is nowhere to be found.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It'll take a while, but these guys are gonna get through it. Can't quite believe I set out to write something happy with a minor bit of angst...


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sirius wakes up and navigates through a morning with Remus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before I begin, thank you for all of the wonderful feedback on the last chapter? I love you guys. There's a bit of discussion of wounds and Sirius musing on the morality of kids in the assassin's profession. Sorry this is a little later than usual! Enjoy the chapter :)

Sirius wakes up to Remus’ face mere millimeters away. His eyes are already open, and the sight makes Sirius’ breath hitch because there’s time to lie there and capture the multitude of colours and emotions held in his eyes. 

_ Perhaps, he could stare into those eyes forever. If neither of them move, perhaps this moment could last forever. _

But Remus obviously has other plans for the morning, because when he sees that Sirius is awake, he starts to sit up. 

“Can’t we just lie here for a bit longer? I don’t think I’m ready for real life yet - I definitely had nowhere close to enough beauty sleep,” Sirius complains, making Remus’ lips quirk upward in the cute way they do when the man wants to smile but won’t let himself give away his amusement.

“I think we’ve got bigger things than your beauty sleep to take into consideration,” he replies, swinging a leg over the edge of the bed.

And then Sirius remembers last night and the dressing covering Remus’ shoulder. He remembers who he’d just spent the night with. He remembers Remus asking him to stay.

Reaching out to grasp Remus’ hand, Sirius sits up too. “Coffee?” he asks, as that’s all he can think of to say into the comfortably quiet room.

“I’m more of a tea person normally, but I’ll just take water after those painkillers last night,” answers Remus. 

The two of them sit still for a moment on opposite sides of the bed, letting everything sink in - letting the fact of  _ them  _ sink in. 

Sirius doesn’t normally offer coffee to his one night stands. In fact, even the few people he’s been in relationships with were lucky to get the offer. He’d only wanted someone else around to drown out the silence between his walls, without any promises of forever. Yet with Remus, forever sounds sublime.

“Does it still-” Sirius’ voice breaks off without being able to complete the question.

“Hurt?” finishes Remus. “It always hurts - bullets will tend to do that. But it doesn’t hurt anymore than usual if that’s what you’re asking,” he continues, pausing, “but I think I’ll ask a friend to check nothing’s reopened…”

Nodding, Sirius finally summons his will to get up and walk over to face Remus. “I’m sorry. Sorry for not seeing what was right in front of me and - I hurt you,” Sirius’ voice hitches as he finishes the sentence, threatening to burst over into a sob. 

A rough hand smooths over his neck below his jaw. “But I’m alright now. And you’re allowed to be mad at me because all this time we’ve known each other I let you believe that I was someone else and now I can’t save Regulus,” Remus says evenly, his face only inches away and eyes urgently locked onto Sirius’.

“What a pair we make,” smiles Sirius. “I’m not mad at you,” he adds, gripping onto Remus’ hand which is now resting on his shoulder, “I’m mad at this whole situation. Because I just thought you might be the one to bring some kind of balance to my mess of a life, but it seems we’re both as messed up as each other and there’s double the mess to clean up.”

Bringing Sirius into a one armed hug, Remus’ hand slips onto Sirius’ back. “I’m not too bad at cleaning up messes, if you still want my help,” he whispers.

And Sirius does his level best to stop his eyes from watering but a tear still spills over. Remus’ words don’t quite feel real - he can’t quite believe that someone would say them to  _ him _ . He can’t quite believe that Remus would say them to him after everything.

And still, here they are. 

“You have no idea how much I’d like your help,” whispers Sirius into the fabric of Remus’ shirt, unsure of if the other man will even hear him. He draws back from the embrace, and Remus’ hand slides off his back and down to meet Sirius’ own hand.

They catch one another’s gaze and hold it. Neither Sirius nor Remus lean in first, yet all at once there’s a bare millimeter between them. Sirius swallows, eyes flicking down to Remus’ slightly chapped lips. His eyes don’t have time to appreciate the sight long before they’re closing in a soft flutter of lashes as he closes the last of the distance between them.

The touch is every bit as tender as he’d remembered, almost like Remus is trying to prove his hands are meant for caring with his lips. Sirius doesn’t think he’ll ever see Remus as a killer, but now that he knows, he can’t forget that the hand he’s holding is soaked in blood by some official’s orders. Remus’ lips, however, remind him of everything Remus could be. They taste of hope and longing for something more, and Sirius finds himself drunk on them after only a few seconds. There’s the usual desire from so many other kisses simmering beneath the surface, yet all of that is drowned out by how much more Remus offers - by how much more Remus understands about the world. 

It’s a kiss of comfort with a lipstick of lust to temper the edges. With the irrepressible truth of the sun rising at dawn, Sirius knows this. From the tender press of fingers grazing over each other without straying past the wrist, Sirius knows that Remus knows this to be true.

Lingering in each other’s warmth, they pull apart for breath.

Sirius leans his head against Remus’ good shoulder, taking refuge in the folds of his t-shirt and inhaling deeply. 

_ He wants this moment to last forever. He knows this moment won’t last forever. _

_ He hopes there’s time for them to have more moments like this in the future. _

“I’ve got to ring in to get my wound checked out,” states Remus, moving the air so it tickles the back of Sirius’ neck.

He lets his hands wander across the vast expanse of Remus’ back, careful to avoid the opposite shoulder and tracing circles with his thumbs. It gives him the courage to open his mouth with a question. “Can I stay for that? Are you staying for that?” he asks, the second question rushing out after the first in a tumble of words and worry.

Sirius feels Remus inhale sharply before speaking. “I was going to ask if I could borrow a phone?” Remus replies, leaning over the top of Sirius’ head. “I might just need a ride too - but you don’t have to if you’ve got other plans. Might be safer for you to stay here…” he trails off, as if trying to convince himself that leaving Sirius here is better for them both.

But Sirius isn’t convinced. And he’s been wanting to take Sirius out on his bike again ever since he’d dropped the other man off from spending a night stargazing. “But it’ll probably be a lot less painful if I give you a ride - and it’s not like I’ve got anything else to do right now,” he says, careful to give the offer in its simplest terms.

“And a phone? Thought it would be best to call ahead seeing how the kids might-” Remus prompts, but Sirius cuts him off.

“They work in the business and they’ve got kids!” he exclaims, almost jumping back from Remus. “I’m coming with you just to have a strongly worded chat with whoever this is,” he mutters darkly.

_ Because it’s one thing to get dragged in without choice like Remus, but another to just expose kids to the threat of murder _ .

Maybe when they were younger, he and James would have signed up to help change the world and put their pranking skills to something which has a wider good, but he’s glad they didn’t. Because now they’re doing something better - creating their own family. And Sirius would die before putting James and Lily’s kid at risk.

Remus doesn’t look perturbed by what Sirius knows to be his thunderous expression, instead smiling slightly at the situation. “I’m sure they’d love that. But I need to call and check it’s okay if we visit first?” he prompts, jolting Sirius out of his increasingly more murderous thoughts.

“Sure thing, I’ll get my phone,” he begins, but as soon as the words are out of his mouth it starts ringing urgently. “Speak of the devil…” mutters Sirius under his breath before he picks it up.

“Hi James! And what could you be after on this glorious morning?” he almost yells into the receiver, because James rarely rings before twelve unless Sirius needs reminding of something importan-

“Shit! I said I’d help out with the morning rush today didn’t I?” Sirius curses, running a hand roughly through his loose hair.

James has the audacity to  _ chuckle  _ on the other end of the line, “Yep, but it’s no trouble ‘cos Lily’s determined to work as much as possible before the baby comes so I think she’s secretly happy for the extra cups to wash up.”

“I bet she won’t be thanking me for that though… Should I wait for her to cool off before dropping by or is it better to show my face quickly as I’ve gotta drop someone off on my bike in a bit?” Sirius asks, hoping she won’t be too mad at him for not showing up.

“Dropping someone off? I damn well hope it’s who I think it is Sirius, otherwise Lily’s gonna have your guts for garters,” replies James, a clear warning note in his voice.

“Keep your hair on - it’s my one true love Remus not some bloke off the street. I’ll stop by then?” Sirius prods.

Taking a second or two to reply the way he always does when forgetting that nods don’t translate over the phone, James confirms he’s safe to swing by before hanging up with one last warning not to get into any road accidents on the way over because Lily would be devastated if Remus showed up hurt.

“Phone’s all yours,” Sirius says, handing his mobile over to a grinning Remus.

* * *

Lily is waiting by the door when they pull up to the curb, looking ready to run at them with a group hug. “Remus! It’s been too long, how’ve you been keeping? You’ll have to swing by more as Sirius basically has a job here now, which he really should turn up on time to. Maybe you can bring him into some sort of order? It’s great to see you again,” she gets out in one breath, not leaving any time for answers.

Beside Sirius, Remus is dead silent.

“Remus?” Sirius nudges him with the question in his eyes. That’s when he notices where Remus is looking. “Sorry, I may have forgotten to mention the latest addition to the Potter household - we’re currently consulting on possible boy’s names if you’ve got any floating around your head,” Sirius says, swelling with pride and gesturing vaguely in Lily’s direction. “Isn’t she great!” he exclaims with a smile so bright it makes his eyes shine.

“A baby? Only you would forget to mention a whole…” Remus mutters something under his breath and seems moments from bursting into a fit of laughter. “Lily that’s amazing, I can’t believe it skipped this extremely beautiful doofus’ mind to say anything,” he smirks, punching Sirius lightly on the shoulder. 

Across from them, Lily is almost doubled over as far as her belly will let her. James comes rushing out of the shop to his wife’s aid before he sees she’s laughing and not in need of assistance. “Do I need to ask?” he comments, looking over at Sirius’ sheepish stance and Remus’ devastatingly cute giggles.

“Please don’t,” answers Sirius, pleading that Remus is having too much fun to notice James.

Except really, he doesn’t mind; his family is back together. With them at his side, his heart feels lighter. With them at his side, the world doesn’t feel so lonely.

Sirius grins across at James, whose confusion has melted into the wry amusement which comes after a prank perfectly pulled off. James grins back with his whole face, and Sirius feels as if he could fly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My bois are gonna heal and it'll be a whole process but they'll get there. I'm gonna be a little busy over the next few weeks, so I'll try and get more writing done this week to even things out. Stay safe out there!


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus introduces Sirius to the Weasleys.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's no gory wound descriptions here, but there's a discussion on wounds, just a heads up. I'm actually on time for once and updating at the beginning of the weekend? Crazy. Anyway, enjoy this lil escape from reality.

Remus is slightly nervous; his palms feel clammy and breathing isn’t as easy as it usually is. But then again, he supposes that it’s no surprise he’s feeling a little nervous. Not about introducing Sirius to the Weasleys of course, because he’s sure that Molly will be thrilled to have someone to keep an extra pair of eyes on the twins and Arthur will adore the motorbike. Instead, it’s the question hanging over his shoulder which makes his fingers tap out erratic patterns on Sirius’ leather jacket as he hangs on for dear life yelling instructions into the driver’s ear in the hope they’re audible over the rush of wind and adrenaline. They’re only a couple of country roads away, and he doesn’t quite know how to explain why he’s worried about the wound having reopened. Closing his eyes for a millisecond, Remus mutters a prayer into the fields flying by that Molly won’t ask any questions.

“Next left?” Sirius yells over the roar of the engine.

Remus shouts through the helmet and they veer at a slightly terrifying speed around the corner onto a quiet street through a village. The bike slows marginally to abide by the speed restrictions past the school, but otherwise continues on at a pace which sends Remus’ heart pounding in his chest. They take one more left down a narrow lane with trees leaning precariously over both sides where the earth rises up as tall as the bike. 

And then, he’s back. 

All the air leaves Remus’ lungs as Sirius glides to a stop in front of the farmhouse cobbled together from a million seperate buildings in a gravity-defying miracle of engineering. Warmth floods over him like a blanket and he can’t stop himself from smiling at the feeling - it’s one he remembers from after long days of school when his mum waited in the kitchen with a mug of hot chocolate waiting to warm up his frozen fingers. It’s not something he feels often now that he’s moved out, but it’s something he’s beginning to realise he misses.

Pulling off his helmet and shaking his loose hair out in one swift motion, Sirius turns his head to face Remus. A bead of sweat trickles down his brow at the same time he sweeps up his hair into a startlingly bright red bandana. He looks beautiful and Remus almost pinches his arm to check he’s not dreaming.

_ Is he allowed something this good? Is he allowed someone as alive as Sirius after everything he’s done? _

He shakes his head and places a kiss on his boyfriend’s cheek when he’s not looking. Smirking back at Sirius’ bright red cheeks, Remus slips off the bike and thanks his lucky stars that he’s made it back to solid ground. 

“Shall we go?” Remus holds out a hand to Sirius who huffs and takes it anyway, knocking their elbows together and intertwining their fingers in a way which makes Remus forget which fingers are his own and which are Sirius’. It’s endearing and delightful, just like the small skip in Sirius’ step as they cross the yard. 

Remus finds the  _ whole _ of Sirius endearing and delightful if he’s being honest with himself ( _ which is something he really should work on considering he’s just hoping Sirius will make an honest man of him eventually _ ).

Standing outside the rickety wooden door, Remus lets go of Sirius’ hand after one final squeeze that’s more to comfort himself than Sirius. Because he’s still waiting for Sirius to really see him in his entirety and turn away. He’s just thankful Sirius hadn’t had to take him into the office, as there are introductions Remus would rather never have to do. 

_ As things go, the Weasleys might just be the best people to introduce Sirius to from his job, especially considering there’s nobody else like them in his line of work _ . 

Before either of them have the chance to knock, the door swings open with a loud screech and Molly bursts out carrying a loaded basket of washing in her arms. Her hair’s tied up in the messy bun Remus knows she only takes the time to make every morning because babies and long hair really don’t mix. And she doesn’t look at all surprised to see them on her doorstep.

“I knew it was you!” comes a small shout from knee height, and Remus is confronted with Percy staring up at him looking mightily proud of himself.

Remus doesn’t see Sirius’ expression, but he likes to think it’s somewhat priceless as he kneels down and scoops up the kid so that they’re face to face. “Did you miss me?” he chuckles, as Percy huffs indignantly and rolls his eyes at his mum in an _ I told you so _ fashion.

“Glad you made it alright, it’s good to see you again, though you should know better than to pick kids up with that shoulder of yours!” greets Molly, glancing Sirius up and down as though deciding which of her kids he’d be able to handle. 

Putting Percy down, Remus shrugs with his good shoulder and smiles up at Molly. “It’s great to see you too - though I must admit I didn’t think I’d be back so soon. Are you sure you’re fine with checking it over?” he asks, a little hesitant to bring any more work to Molly when she’s got so much already to look after.

“Oh it’s no trouble at all dear, and I’m sure the kids will love to meet - Sirius was it?” 

Sirius nods and she continues, “Which leaves me with plenty of time to see to you. A shame Arthur’s not back from work today but what can you do…” Molly has a moment of silence until the twins come barrelling out of the house pulling a toy between them.

“Mum?” the one on the right asks, who Remus is fairly sure is Fred. They look up at Remus and Sirius with big eyes and wide grins.

“Moons!” they both bellow upon recognising Remus, tackling his legs and gripping on tight enough that he can’t shake them off. 

He doesn’t have to imagine Sirius’ face because he can hear great peals of laughter from just behind him. Percy just stands next to Molly watching his brothers with a look of complete exasperation for a minute or so, before determining that his book is probably more interesting and turning back inside. 

Molly attempts to coax the twins off whilst holding the laundry basket, but eventually gives up and walks back into the kitchen, gesturing for Remus (with added twins) and Sirius to follow. As soon as she puts down the washing basket and turns around to face the little devils, they leap off Remus’ legs in almost perfect synchronisation and run screaming out into the garden. 

“Is that a normal occurrence with toddlers?” Sirius asks, a scheming smile that tells Remus he’s thinking of James’ impending parenthood playing across his face.

“Unfortunately. Ever since they learnt how to crawl it’s been chaos - I’m just glad Bill’s old enough to watch them and Ron’s inherited his dad’s ability to sleep through world wars,” sighs Molly, taking a small chest out from under the table which Remus recognises as the medicine area the twins kept trying to steal when he last stayed. “So, how’s the shoulder?” she asks, pointedly changing to her  _ no nonsense _ tone frequently used on the kids.

Remus fights off shrugging at her question, hyper-aware of Sirius’ gaze on the back of his head. “I don’t think any of the scab had pulled off, but it aches a lot more than when I left and the dressing could do with going over again,” he reports in the near monotone voice he keeps in his back pocket for explaining injuries like this.

“You’re gone for less than a week and…” Molly shakes her head with the same exasperated expression Percy had worn earlier. “Anyway, let’s get you patched up and in working order. This might take a couple of minutes, so would you be able to keep an eye on the twins Sirius? They’ll be outside or in the room next door annoying Bill.”

Ruffling Remus’ hair and nodding to Molly, Sirius retreats to go and find the troublemakers. Remus has a bed feeling that Molly is going to regret introducing them without any supervision, but he can’t exactly complain because it’s given him the opportunity to speak to her alone.

_ Here comes the real reason his hands can’t sit still for long _ .

“I need to ask you to do something for my latest assignment Molly,” he says into the silence of the room.

For a moment, he thinks that she doesn’t hear him, but then her hands stop getting out dressings and disinfectants. Molly pats the top of a chair and Remus almost collapses into it because the words seem to have taken out all of his energy.

“What is it? I know you wouldn’t be asking if it weren’t important, but I’ve got kids and I can’t leave on errands for you without raising questions,” Molly replies in a tired voice.

Remus regrets having to put her in this situation more than when he’d first come with the plan and managed to get Regulus to agree to it. More than ever, he regrets dragging himself into the trade and ending up so far in that good people end up bloody trying to pull him out of the deep end. 

_ Good people like Molly. Good people like Sirius. _

“It’s his brother - Sirius’. Except he’s with us. We think someone blew his cover when I took out Bellatrix, but we can’t be sure. Either way, he needs to disappear if he’s going to survive - or least have a chance at finishing his job. And nobody but us can know, including Sirius,” Remus tries his level best to explain in a level voice, and thinks he just about manages to pull it off from the dreadful look of understanding which passes over Molly’s face.

“You know what happens to people who don’t finish assignments?” Molly asks sharply. “Because if you do then you’re stupid and have an even bigger death wish than I thought you did.”

Remus flinches. He  _ does  _ know the ghost stories about hitmen gone rogue who end up running back to beg forgiveness in return for mercy. It’s no secret that the organisation is ruthless in keeping people in line, just like how it’s no secret that those who fly too close to the sun won’t have friends or family to break their fall.

He clears his throat and looks up at Molly as she peels back the old dressing with gentle fingers and a frown forming between her eyebrows. “That’s why I’m asking if you can keep him alive after I’ve killed him,” Remus finally says what he needs to, watching closely Molly’s reaction.

For a moment, complete confusion is written across her features. “I don’t suppose you’re going to let me know how you’re planning on going about killing him?” she prods, searching for more information in the way which tells Remus he’s got a shot at this because Molly might just be at his back. 

“So far we’ve agreed some kind of sterile blade would probably be best, maybe combined with some kind of blunt force to knock him out without too much blood loss. But by all means I’m open to suggestions from someone who might be treating the wounds,” explains Remus. 

Molly nods, then pauses to look closer at his shoulder, “I appreciate the lack of guns - your own wound is taking longer for tissue to reform than I’d like. But you’re lucky there’s no sign of infection, or I wouldn’t let you out of my sight for another couple of weeks.”

“I’ll do it on one condition: you don’t bring him here. I don’t want my kids seeing whatever mess you guys get into, and I won’t lie to Arthur about who’s staying in our home. So if you’re got somewhere I can treat him, I’m all yours.”

Gripping her closest hand, Remus does his best to give her a hug from his position. Molly leans into his attempt, bending down and rubbing his back. “Thank you,” he manages to get out. 

“I swear I’m going to demand your help with the kids at least once a week to repay me for this, and possibly a Sunday lunch every month just because of the stress,” Molly chuckles, drawing back to finish the dressing. 

In reply, Remus finds himself promising he’ll stop by, “I might even be free enough after this to drop by more than once a week.” 

“Well that’ll be the day… I’ve got your number so we can make arrangements anytime,” Molly effectively ends the conversation. 

Remus winces slightly as she presses down a new dressing onto the wound.

“All done,” she states, dusting her hands off and walking over to the sink. “That should hold for another week, and you should be able to change it yourself by then - perhaps with the help of your young gentleman,” Molly throws a wink as she finishes the sentence, sending Remus a deep shade of red all the way to the tips of his ears.

“Th-thanks again Molly, I’m sure I’ll manage,” he stammers out, taken aback by how fast she’d caught onto him and Sirius being more than just friends.

In response, Molly just laughs and tells him to  _ find that boy of his and make sure the kids are under some semblance of control _ .

Remus has a feeling that the kids are very much going to have fallen under Sirius’ spell - the twins in particular - as he walks next door to the room leading out onto the wild back garden. His boyfriend is sitting on the carpet with five kids paying varying degrees of attention to him. Bill’s lounging on the sofa next to Ron’s cot, looking mildly bored by the wild tales coming out of Sirius’ mouth. In stark contrast, the twins are sitting cross legged right in front of Sirius, eyes wide and watching the dinosaur figures in the man’s hands as he re-enacts the events he’s telling them about. Charlie seems equally enthralled, even if he sits a little farther back and occasionally glances to Bill as though to check if what Sirius is saying really is true. And then Percy clearly doesn’t believe a word coming out of Sirius’ mouth, judging from the confused crease between his wispy red eyebrows and crossed arms. 

Standing in the doorway, Remus watches Sirius knock over a t-rex as he describes a volcano monster taking it out in a single blow. He wants to freeze the moment forever in his memory. He knows that whatever chance he had of being the children’s favourite is gone, and that the Potter’s kid is going to have perhaps the best godfather anyone could wish for.

_ If this is what he’s protecting, then whatever he has to has got to be worth it. _

Remus smiles and slips out of the room before Sirius can see him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know when my next update will be, but it's likely it'll take a little longer than usual or be a lot faster. Also, just a side note, here's the ages of all the Weasly clan: Molly and Arthur are 30 (so almost 10 years older than Remus), Bill's 10, Charlie's 8, Percy's 4, and the Twins are 2. Ron's just been born. It took more maths than I've done in a while to work that out...


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sirius heads back home with Remus on the back of his bike.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So guess I'm updating sooner rather than later... Anyway, there's a small and very unexplicit mention of sex right at the end of this chapter - fair warning :). Happy reading!

Sirius loves the Weasleys. He loves how they’ve got more kids than he can keep track of and more than enough love to drown everyone in it. So he really doesn’t mind staying for tea when Molly asks them to, or looking after the kids whilst she and Remus cook. In fact, he’d probably stay forever if they let him. It feels like he’s catching up on all of the good bits of family he’d never known he’d missed out on when he was young. 

Just before they leave, both stuffed full of as much roast dinner as possible, Molly gives him a bone-crushing hug. She smells like everything his mum didn’t - all soft sugar, baked goods, and hard work. There’s not one note of cloying floral or the season’s latest perfumes imported from Paris. Instead, it’s all real.

_ Perhaps Molly is one of the most real people he’s ever met, even if he feels like he’s in a dream. _

Like he had on the way there, Remus grips tight onto his waist as they wind their way through country fields back towards the city and away from the sprawling commuter villages. On a whim, Sirius turns down a small lane up a hill, wanting to see the view from the top of the city lights all spread out beneath them. The cool rush of wind and purr of the motor is as steady and strong as the night he’d first met Remus, with the evening being surprisingly mild and the stars unusually bright. Even after these last couple of days, Sirius can’t bring himself to regret offering Remus the stars back then. 

It’s one thing which he knows for certain that he’d go back and do a hundred times over.

Maybe that’s why he slows down as they approach the brow of the hill, pulling over to the side of the road which doesn’t have a single barrier to stop them from crossing onto open grassland with a clear view out to the glowing horizon. Remus doesn’t question it, instead just dismounting and stretching out his long limbs in the way which Sirius can’t help but stare a little at. 

“Time to look at the stars?” Remus ponders, looking up at the cloudless sky where pinpricks of light are just beginning to show up.

Sirius hums as he kicks out the stand and takes the key out of the ignition. “Something like that,” he murmurs into the night, staring at the taught line of Remus’ back. 

Rather than respond with words, Remus lies down on the cool grass. Sirius moves to lie down beside him, wriggling against the hard ground until Remus sighs and lets him rest his head on his good shoulder. From then Sirius is too distracted watching the rise and fall of Remus’ chest to pay any attention to the stars. An odd sort of adrenaline runs through him, as though this moment’s somehow illicit. 

_ Who knows, they could be camped out on private land _ .

He presses a kiss to Remus’ cheek, thrilled at the small noise of appreciation the other man makes. It feels as if they’ve got forever stretching out in front of them - as if eternity is theirs for the taking. And Sirius is perfectly familiar with the feeling from sneaking out of school with James and pub crawls with Lily at his side challenging him to his fist pint. But this is the first time he’s felt it with someone he can reach over to kiss, and that brings a whole new edge to the experience. 

“So… You liked the Weasleys?” whispers Remus. His voice is so close to Sirius’ ear that he can feel Remus’ breath tickle against it, sending a shiver down his spine.

Burrowing into Remus’ soft shirt for a moment, he nods. “Can’t imagine a better place to grow up. And I can’t imagine what kind of dick dragged them into them into the business - did you see their kids?” he huffs out indignantly, not quite swayed by Molly’s obvious proficiency with gun wounds or her children’s lack of knowledge about the whole affair.

“A dickhead who’s probably the best of a bad bunch - Dumbledore. Never met the bloke, but the alternative’s someone a little too authoritarian for my taste. Apparently what I’m doing will stop them getting into power, so maybe I’ll be able to put my feet up properly once this is over,” sighs Remus.

The words hang in the air around them for a second whilst Sirius tries to put them together with everything Remus has told him about his work. It’s tricky because Remus hasn’t said much about the world that belongs to Lupin - something Sirius is glad of even if it makes conversations like this damn difficult to make sense of.

“Shit,” he eventually comes out with, “there’s no easy way out until this is done. I just wish -” Sirius’ voice hitches before he can continue.

“Yeah, I get that a lot. The world can be a pretty shitty place,” remarks Remus in a dull voice with a sharp edge of humour hidden in his grimly upturned lips.

With that, Sirius turns to look up at the millions of stars that stretch above their heads into infinity, sick of talking about things which make Remus, who has the most beautiful smile, make such a weary face. “At least we’ve still got stars,” he comments softly to the breeze.

“Yeah, at least we’ve still got them,” breathes Remus.

And Sirius breathes out all of the storm clouds gathering over his heart. Slowly, he reaches out to find Remus’ hand in the inky darkness that stole almost all of their sight as soon as he turned the lights off on his bike as though waiting to encompass them completely. Finally, skin touches skin and Sirius revels in the warm feeling of Remus’ palm lying on top of his own. 

“I’m glad you’re here,” he confesses to the night, not expecting any reply and only just aware that the words had slipped past his lips at all.

Remus’ head turns until they’re lying with their faces right next to each other. “I can’t imagine anyone better to be here with,” he replies, barely making any sound as he speaks. But even then every word is crystal clear because of how close they are and how silent the rest of the universe is.

One of them squeezes the other’s hand - Sirius’ can’t tell which of them it is with their fingers intertwined so closely and his brain melting from Remus’ words.

_ I can’t imagine anyone better to be here with _ .

Sirius wants to laugh and cry because he can’t imagine anyone else being there by his side right now either. It feels obvious that he’d fall for someone who could kill him a million times over - who’s actually killed enough people that he probably can’t remember every name. But Sirius can’t hate him for it as much as he knows he should. He can’t even bring himself to be scared of the man who’s been nothing but gentle. Maybe it’s because that Remus probably isn’t to blame for the work he does anymore that Sirius is to blame for the mess of a family he grew up with.

Squeezing their hands together one last time, Sirius lets go so he can stand up. “Good to be home before it gets light again,” he explains to Remus’ pout at the lack of contact.

“Wise words, and here I was thinking we’d stay on this unnamed hill until morning because I couldn’t bring myself to wake the cute driver from his beauty sleep on my shoulder,” Remus smirks, lightening the mood as he stands and shakes his limbs. 

“So...” Sirius begins, “My place or yours?” he finishes, praying silently that Remus will stay for one more night. 

“I’d like to stay with you for a couple of days if that’s okay,” answers Remus in a quiet voice, as though admitting something out loud for the first time. “My place is… Well, it’s a bit too silent at the moment and I’d rather have somebody else around before I’m off for a little bit again.”

There’s not much to say to that because Sirius knows how it feels to have a home without anyone else’s sounds to make it feel lived in. He knows what it feels like to crave company whilst at the same time finding it difficult to let any company in. And if it means the two of them are a little less isolated, then he’ll let Remus stay as long as he wants.

“My house is yours for as long as you want,” he eventually comes out with. Sure, the words aren’t perfect and they don’t quite encompass the sheer want Sirius feels when he thinks about Remus staying, but they do. 

A second later, the two of them are on the bike and the countryside’s flying past in a blur of shadow. The headlight does little to combat the oppressive dark of the small lane, but Sirius is used to telling overhanging branches from bends in the road, so he feels confident enough to cruise just a little below the speed limit the way he usually does (when he was younger it was a little above the speed limit, but Lily’s expression after he hit something forced him to grow up and tone down the reckless speeds in the dead of night). After a couple of hours, the fields are entirely replaced with flats in amongst the occasional row of terraced houses. Due to the late hour, there’s hardly any traffic to be seen under the orange glow of streetlights which plunge the darkness into a strange form of half-shadow. 

Remus clings tight whether they’re approaching traffic lights or turnings. 

Sirius feels warm with Remus’ arms wrapped around him, even if he can’t feel much except the steady pressure through his leather jacket. 

Eventually, he pulls down the last street and skids to a stop in the way which makes his brain shriek with adrenaline and his pulse jump in his veins. As he always does, Remus slips off first. This time, he offers a hand out for Sirius.

“A hand?” he asks, “It must be exhausting driving that thing and looking as good as you.”

Absolutely  _ not  _ blushing, he takes the offered hand. “I’m all good, the exhaustion burnt off the thirds of roast potatoes which Molly decided I needed feeding,” he says with a wink.

After that, Sirius grabs the goody bags stuffed full of leftovers Molly had forced upon them at the last moment and locks up his bike in his parking space round the back.

_ He doesn't know what it is about him, but he always seems to come home from Roasts with extra food - do people not think he can cook for himself or something? _

Either way, he and Remus make it up all the flights of stairs without any incidents which is practically a miracle given the last few days. And then Sirius opens his front door to a gloriously empty, albeit a little warm, flat. It smells of breakfast and laundry and he probably won’t admit it but he’s glad to be back.

He’s even more glad to have Remus by his side -  _ and not only because he was easy to talk into carrying the bags of food _ . 

“I’m glad you’re here,” he says into the empty flat, not able to look Remus in the eye. 

But perhaps he should have had the guts to face Remus, because the other man drops the food in his hands and pulls Sirius in to embrace him. 

“I’m glad you let me stay with you,” whispers Remus right above Sirius’ ear. 

He can hear Remus’ heart beat against his own, and feel every contraction of his diaphragm as he breathes. Sirius feels how alive Remus is and it amazes him - stuns him into silence. Almost every inch of them’s pressed together, with Remus leaning over him so that he’s curved almost protectively, around Sirius’ head and shoulders. Not wanting to pull apart, Sirius walks backwards towards his bedroom, navigating blindly through his dark apartment. They don’t stop to put the food in the fridge or get undressed before collapsing on top of each other in bed.

“I’d let you stay forever,” he murmurs into Remu’s chest.

Whether or not Remus hears, Sirius has no idea. But he’s glad to have said it; the truth had weighed him down and made his heart ache. Neither of them say anything about love in that moment, even if there’s a shift in the air between them when Sirius leans down to press his lips to the underside of Remus’ jaw. It feels messy, but wholly  _ him  _ in a way which Sirius doesn’t get when he kisses strangers in clubs and invites them home. And when Remus kisses him back, it feels like acceptance.

_ It feels like bliss. _

Sirius wonders if this lazy dance is closer to heaven or hell, because he knows he might never experience something so sweet again. So he kisses Remus so much that he loses track of time and space, until it’s just them on this bed tracing each other’s bodies in the moonlight. Sleep feels like a foggy haze pulling at the back of his mind, waiting to catch him in its slumber, but the presence of Remus right in front of him keeps it more than at bay.

As dawn clambers over the horizon, they’re still lost in each other. The growing light ignores the secrets spilt in the dead of night and glides through the blinds regardless of clothing strewn across the floor. Like a drug, Sirius breathes Remus in until he’s dizzy and every touch of skin sets him ablaze.

It’s beautiful in the way Sirius had always known sex could be, but never been able to experience. It leaves him trembling with happiness and clutching onto Remus so tight that he’s worried about leaving bruises.

“You’re beautiful,” Remus sighs, head just behind Sirius’ from where he’s curled around him. 

“You’re sublime,” Sirius replies in words so soft they almost melt together.

They fall asleep curled around each other, and Sirius feels a sense of protection as he drifts off with Remus at his back. 

_ It feels like home, and promises being kept no matter how shakily, and something like a love which could destroy him as easily as save him. _

Sirius falls asleep with a smile written in the easy relaxation of his shoulders and the loose grip on Remus’ hand. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> can they be soft and fall asleep all curled up around each other? Definitely. Sirius very much enjoys how the smol height difference makes him the perfect fit for a little spoon.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end of the week arrives, and Remus can't stay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for violence at the end of this chapter, but there's no gore, just emotional blood spilt. Sorry it's been a little longer than usual, enjoy!

A week is all Lupin allows Remus to spend with Sirius. As the next Saturday rolls closer, he can’t stop the dread pooling in his stomach; he knows that after this Sirius might not speak to him again. And he can’t let the man know that it’s all going to be okay - the Regulus will come out the other side with nothing more than the new scars which make people avoid their profession like the plague. Or at least, that’s all the damage which will be done if everything goes to plan, but Lupin doesn’t like the amount of things which could go wrong over the weekend. 

On Friday night Sirius cooks for Lily and James as Remus defeats them both in chess one after the other (several times over because James insists on a best of three, and then Lily reveals a competitive streak to rival her husband’s). They don’t comment on the way he favours using one arm over the other slightly, and he finds himself relaxing into the ease of their family before he knows it. 

“She’s amazing -” begins James on another of his speeches about the wonders of his wife, “- I mean, there’s a whole human growing inside of her and she just continues working like it’s nothing! I’d be utterly hopeless at the whole pregnancy thing and spend the whole time terrified.”

Across the room from the stove, Sirius bursts out laughing, “I’m sorry James, but you’re right. Lily, thank god it’s you going through all of this ‘cos James would be insufferable.”

James huffs indignantly, Lily stroking his back whilst trying to hide a grin.

“I bet I’d still be better than whatever dramatics you’d pull in pregnancy Sirius…” James mutters darkly, causing Sirius to look mortally offended.

“Remus, don’t let this man slander my honor! You agree that I’d be great at the whole pregnancy thing?” Sirius raises his voice and looks imploringly at Remus.

And Remus just tips his head back and laughs. It’s the final straw for Lily too, and they both end up having to hold each other up as they collapse into fits of giggles, releasing great peals of laughter into the argument between James and Sirius who are still trying in vain to declare themselves the better candidate for giving birth.

A minute or so later, Sirius looks into the pot he’d forgotten to stir whilst yelling across the room. “Shit,” he curses, causing everyone to look in his direction.

Remus jogs over and peers over his shoulder to see that the curry had turned into a charred mess at the bottom of the pan. “Shit,” agrees Remus.

Sirius coughs, “How does takeaway sound? I know it’s not quite Fleamont’s recipe but I doubt my cooking would have quite been the same anyway…”

There’s a murmur of agreement from the couple on the couch, and then Remus is sent to the bottom drawer of Sirius’ cabinet of important things to rifle through takeaway menus until an appropriate one is found. 

“Are we still sticking with Indian, because there’s a deal on tonight at a place just down the road for half price samosas and free delivery?” Remus asks the room, eyes flicking over a bright orange section on daal.

“Sure thing,” replies Lily, “I’ve been craving something spicy for days and we’ve run out of the good chilli powder at home to make anything with a good kick.”

Remus stands up and gives them the aggressively bright leaflet. “Not sure what the spicy options are as I can't hack the heat that well - I like to blame my Welsh tastebuds for being able to only handle heat in hot drinks,” he comments. 

“Welsh?” Sirius asks, looking at him with wide eyes.

“Not that you can tell from my accent now, but I grew up just the other side of the border,” answers Remus, tracing circles onto his jeans with his thumbs.

Sirius shakes his head and chuckles a little, his hair bouncing around his shoulders. “Wow my Mum would  _ love  _ that. Apparently the Welsh are on the same level as the Irish, rats, and just about anyone who doesn’t fit into her definition of English,” he smirks dangerously, “I think I may have to invite her over for dinner to meet the love of my life.”

“But Sirius, I’ve already met her remember?” Replies James, stunning Sirius enough that he drops the pot full of ruined curry into the sink with a loud bang.

Lily just shakes her head at their antics, continuing to peruse the menu as James doubles over wheezing. 

The order ends up being incredibly large and Lily still manages to polish off almost everything except the naan breads (which apparently weren’t agreeing with stomach at the moment). They laze around talking about everything and nothing, too full to move any of the rubbish to the bin and too wrapped up in each other’s company to really care if anything starts to smell. Underneath him, Remus can almost feel Sirius’ heartbeat slowing as he relaxes more and more into the cushions of the big armchair. 

“Time to sleep?” James yawns from his place on Lily’s shoulder. 

Everyone nods, and except Remus doesn’t quite want this last evening to end. He aches at the easy way the door swings shut behind the guests and the way Sirius waves off putting any rubbish away tonight in favour of crawling under the covers and lying there for an eternity until he wakes up to find the morning has passed him by as it tends to do these days with Remus sleeping beside him.

Shaking his head, Remus slips into bed beside Sirius and curls around the slightly shorter man.

“Sleep tight,” he whispers into Sirius’ ear.

All he gets in response is a contented hum, followed soon after by the soft snore that Sirius refuses to believe is his whenever confronted about it. 

Remus lies awake listening to the sound of Sirius breathing until the grey light of dawn creeps through the curtains.

* * *

Lupin leaves before Sirius wakes up - or at least he tries to. But the other man stirs and catches Lupin’s arm before he makes it out of the bed.

“Remus?” slurs Sirius, not quite awake enough to stop a rough edge from entering his voice. 

The sound clutches at Lupin’s heart and makes him want to change skins and stay until he’s old and the memory of being Lupin is just a foggy memory. Instead, he squeezes Sirius' hand and lies, “Just going to the loo - go back to sleep,” he utters softly into the softly sluggish light flooding through the room. 

Sirius lets his hand sink back underneath the duvet before curling into the warm space left by Remus. Lupin wants to save the moment for as long as he can, but there’s a job he’s got to do and if he stays for a minute longer then he won’t be able to leave. 

People are depending on him - he’s got to go.

He’s got to leave the dream of Remus behind again, and hope that Sirius can live with a dream until he gets back.

On his way out, he leaves a note upon the counter. It’s nothing much, and he’d written it a couple of days ago so that all it takes is a moment to press it onto the pile of clothes he’s borrowed from Sirius over the past week. 

Lupin takes everything with him when he shuts the door; he doesn’t want the people he’s going after to find Sirius and snatch this piece of paradise. He’d rather Sirius has nothing left of Remus save the note, which could have been left by anyone with r as an initial. Sirius will know who left it, and that’s all that matters.

It still burns the back of his throat and around the edges of his eyes to leave like this - without so much as a proper goodbye. After Sirius had opened up his whole world this past week for Remus, it goes against any morals he has left to just swing the door closed so he can’t let Sirius into his life just yet. Even if Lupin knows that he has to do this, it doesn’t make posting his door key through the letterbox any easier.

Lupin glances around the flat one last time (or at least, he hopes it’s not quite the last time). The curry from the night before is all safely installed in the fridge, and there’s not one stray piece of Lupin’s clothing lingering across the back of a chair. 

If he didn’t know any better, he’d say that the place looks as if it belongs to someone who doesn’t let anyone else cross their threshold - someone who enjoys cleaning and their own company too much for mess to build up from crashing friends and motorbike grease. 

Tugging the door shut, he steps out into the hallway and makes his way down the stairs without a second look; he knows that if he looks back he won’t be able to take another step away from the place. So, Lupin walks briskly out onto the street and back to his flat. Unsurprisingly, it’s just as lonely as he left it, and is beginning to have enough of a dust issue to make him think twice about cooking anything without cleaning first. But he doesn’t stop to gaze around the kitchen and take in the blanket of grey coating the worn surfaces. Lupin brushes past straight into his bedroom, unlocking a small wooden box pulled out from underneath his splintering bed frame. 

_ Something to knock him out after a struggle… _

Tracing his fingers over various bottle tops, Lupin mutters lightly under his breath about the benefits of one kind of poison over another, not noticing the sound of muffled footsteps approaching him from behind until too late.

He whips round just in time to catch familiar black eyes like endless tunnels staring into his, and then a punch lands right on his injured shoulder. There’s no time to feel betrayal - he’d almost expected it from the moment Snape assigned this mess of an operation to him. Inhaling sharply through the pain, Lupin ducks the next blow and swipes up a couple of bottles to tuck under his sleeve. He knows that it’s likely there are other agents waiting outside to bring him in should Snape fail; Lupin needs a failsafe that works as an escape method as well as something to stop him spilling any information. 

Poison is perfect for both.

“You took too long on the latest project Lupin - weren’t even answering calls made to your  _ work phone _ ,” Snape leers, the expression twisting his features into something sinister. 

Something about those words doesn’t add up - Lupin knows for a fact he’d had almost nightly calls with the office in his attempt to scrabble for more time.

The situation feels off.

He lowers his stance slightly, letting Snape’s next blow hit his temple and drag him into darkness.

  
Lupin wishes more than anything that his plans could go right at least _ once _ , but today doesn’t seem to want that to happen as much as any other day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, I have nowhere near a high enough tolerance for emotional trauma for any major character deaths, unlike JK who just seems to like writing a whole lotta death. I'll try and resolve this lil cliffhanger before too long, though I'm not sure if the next chapter should be Sirius finding Remus gone, or dealing with Lupin's whole situation... Enough of my rambling, thank you for reading!


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus is gone, but Sirius isn't alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for intense loneliness and mentions of death and Sirius running away from home. I've kept the canon backstories with removed magic from everyone except Remus (slight adjustment had to be made to allow for hitmen... More details to follow in future chapters). So, Sirius' parents realy shouldn't have had kids, but he found a family in the Potters. Cos I love found family and you can pry the trope from my cold dead hands. Enough rambling, enjoy the chapter!

Sirius wakes up to an odd feeling - as though he’d had a conversation he can’t remember. The words tickle the edges of his mind, annoyingly close to being found but not giving him any clue as to their nature. 

He also wakes up on Remus’ side of the bed without the other man in sight. It’s not the first time he’s woken up alone; sometimes Remus had crept out of bed in the early hours to bring him back coffees from Lily and James to sip with breakfast in bed. Smiling at the memory, Sirius stretches out and prepares to snooze until Remus returns (hopefully with coffee and croissants). In the quiet room, he drifts back to sleep easily. Any unease is quelled as his eyelids fall shut and his breathing evens out into a steady pace.

Except he wakes up ten minutes later to his alarm blaring loud right next to his ear. Grumbling, Sirius reluctantly drags himself up and flings a hand over his head to stop the noise. 

He  _ much  _ prefers getting woken up by Remus than the stupid thing. Remus had woken him up before his alarm almost everyday in the past week anyway, and Sirius had only really set the alarm just in case Remus slept in for once.

A frown crosses his face.

The apartment is deadly silent inside, with only the faint sound of traffic filtering in through the windows. There’s no movement either - something Sirius had gotten used to before Remus. After a week of having someone dispel the gathering dust with foreign footsteps, the flat feels almost alien. 

It feels like it did when Sirius had first moved in, and he’d spend more nights round at the Potter’s to avoid the loneliness crawling across his floorboards. 

Rushing around the place, Sirius tries to find any sign of where Remus had gone. Except he turns up with even less than before - his clothes and shoes are all gone. The only evidence that the past week hadn’t been inside Sirius’ head (some sweet dream he’s only just woken up from into some kind of bitter reality which makes Remus’ absence sting like never before) is a note left on the counter. It’s only a couple of sentences long, but it only takes a couple of sentences to break his heart.

_ I’ve just gone out for that job I mentioned - sorry about the timing. Hopefully it won’t take too long and I’ll give you a call when it’s all over. Thanks for everything, from the person whose heart you stole and wants you to keep it a little longer _ .

He nearly rips it accidentally whilst reading it because his hands are shaking too much. It’s all too much for the morning, and Sirius just wants to curl up and for all of this to be over, except that he knows that when he wakes up Regulus will be dead at the end of Lupin’s trigger and things won’t get any easier.

_ Why is nothing ever easy? _

Not quite knowing what to do with the note - whether to be angry at Lupin and destroy it or keep it under his pillow and pray that Remus makes it home safely - Sirius ends up pinning it to his fridge. Sure, if anyone comes after him it might be a bit of giveaway, yet he can’t find it in himself to care. So it rests where he can see it - where it can remind him that Remus wasn’t some kind of ghost haunting the empty walls. With that done, he drags on his usual work outfit and convinces himself to make it to the coffee shop.

Lily and James still need him (he still needs them too, now more than ever) even if his hands won’t stay still enough to do anything other than wash mugs behind the bar. They’ll probably be able to tell something’s up, and it almost makes Sirius regret his decision to go. In the end, though, the draw of family is too strong to ignore. 

In stark contrast to his gloomy nature, the sun is determined to shine on his walk to the corner. The bright red and gold sign gleams brighter than usual in the late morning heat, and there’s a small queue beginning to form outside of the doors of people in long dresses and short shorts. Sirius glides past and revels in the glares levelled at him. Normally, he’d glare right back. Today, the most he manages is rolling his eyes as the bell jangles with the door opening.

“Sirius! Thank the gods you’re here - mind helping work the till whilst I collect empties?” Lily greets, immediately standing up from the stool she’d evidently been sitting on for long enough for her strained joints to complain about. “The stool’s been killing me. I’m petitioning to get a new one with better padding and a back to actually lean on but James thinks we need to save money for baby things,” she complains as Sirius takes up his position behind the till, ready to pass orders on to James.

“Come on Lils, I’ll get you more cushions next time and you’re really not supposed to be working this much anyway,” James levels back at her.

Collecting mugs at the nearest table, Lily rolls her eyes in the way which normally sets Sirius off laughing.

But there’s no response - Sirius may as well have been in a separate world. 

Because next in line stands Regulus. 

Around him, Lily and James continue sniping at each other, completely unaware of Sirius sitting frozen in place, only just managing to pass on the front person’s order. 

“A small black coffee to takeaway please Sirius,” orders Regulus, as though getting coffee here is something he does everyday. 

As though he’s not facing death within the next couple of days - maybe the next couple of hours even.

“Sirius?” he asks, waving a hand in front of the cash register. 

Sirius doesn’t blink. He doesn’t notice Lily and James falling silent, or people peering over shoulders in the queue to see what the hold up is.

But he takes the order, wordlessly passing it one to James who makes the coffee without taking his eyes off the two brothers.

“That’ll be two pound fifty; you can wait to the right and James will pass it over when it’s done,” he says, hand out to take payment. Regulus pays in coins - Sirius doesn’t think he’s ever seen his brother use a card to do anything other than take cash out of a hole in the wall.

Regulus pays in coins, but there’s paper in his hand. Before Sirius can look, Regulus is gone to the other end of the counter - out of reach. He doesn’t even bother to wait for change.

And Sirius doesn’t blame him for wanting to get out of here (to get away from the older brother who’d failed so miserably to protect him). 

He looks down at the paper in his hand briefly before pocketing it and giving his head a shake. James hands over the coffee with a question in his eyes which goes unanswered. Lily looks seconds away from tackling Regulus to the ground and demanding answers.

But they both respect his decision - they were both paying far too much attention to him to miss the way his head shake had signalled them to stand down. So the café goes back to normal by the time the door swings shut behind Regulus, and Sirius is free to take the next order after a reassuring shoulder tap from James and a concerned smile from Lily that told him he’ll be getting hugged as soon as she gets rid of the china she’s depositing in the sink. 

For a while, they just work. The three of them sink into a rhythm, occasionally switching positions when Lily needs to sit or stand up. With the monotony sinking into his bones, Sirius feels an odd sort of relief. For the moment, he lets it wash away the light weight in his pocket and the heavier weight on his mind. He lets himself just exist, like nothing outside of the shop exists. Because in the end, his whole family is here - even if they’re not blood related and part of his chest feels caved in from Remus’ absence.

But the lunch rush ends and the afternoon tea crowd slows down the pace of the work. Lily has time to deliver on the promised hug and tears start trying to spring out of his eyes. Somehow, having her hold him makes it harder to hold himself together, and Sirius begins breaking at the seams.

James joins in on the hug at some point, perhaps it’s when he sees Sirius’ chest begin to rise and fall far too fast. Perhaps it’s when Lily guides them into the alcove by the storage cupboard because Sirius’ sobs aren’t slowing down or decreasing in volume. Perhaps it’s when he sees there aren’t any customers waiting or dishes in the sink and his brother needs him.

Underneath it all, Sirius lets himself be held. He lets himself be held and he tries to pretend it doesn’t remind him of the way Remus held him tight. He lets himself break apart because he knows they’ll hold him together without asking the questions he can’t answer right now. He lets them hold him because when they let go he won’t have a reason not to look in his pocket at the scrunched piece of paper.

But most of all, Sirius lets them hold him because he needs to be - because with them he doesn’t feel so alone. With them by his side, he knows that whatever it is he’s got ahead of him will be something he can manage. After all these two have seen him through, Sirius feels comforted by the thought that they’ll still fight for him and see that he’s whole enough to survive on the other side.

“You’ll get through this,” Lily promises.

Sirius can’t help but believe her; Lily has yet to fall through on a promise. Hell, even when they’d hardly known each other, she’d promised to keep him safe after he’d left home. And Lily had accomplished that at the same time as winning James’ heart in a way which couldn’t be undone.

Wanting to let them know they haven’t drowned him completely under all of their support and love, Sirius manages to say two words. “Thank you,” he whispers in the hoarse voice he always tries to hide after crying. 

“We love you Sirius,” James declares, “never forget that.”

Sirius doesn’t think he’d be able to forget it even if he tried. And he doesn’t want to forget it - the Potters are his family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slightly shorter and less on time than usual, but tis done. Ach this is a whole lot of angst I've gotten myself into - guess that's why half the chapter is spent giving out hugs. The one or two people sat in the cafe must be extremely uncomfortable with all of the personal drama and emotion happening behind the bar during this chapter if they're anything like me. I'll just pretend it was empty and the emotions happened in private?


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lupin wakes up with company.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's quite a bit of knife violence in this and mentions of wounds. The big bad guy makes an appearance here so this is about as bad as it gets - consider this botha warning and a reassurance :). Anyway, thank ya for all of the lovely feedback over the past chapters, ya'll are amazing!

“Welcome Lupin, so glad you could finally join us,” cuts a cold, crisp voice from somewhere above Lupin’s place on the freezing marble floor.

His head aches when he tries to move it up in order to get a look at where Snape had brought him to. In his left hand is a small bottle clenched tightly, and the fact that it’s still there brings him a wave of relief to fight off the bitter adrenaline in his veins. From the lack of any other sound apart from the voice, his own heartbeat, and clipped footsteps, Lupin guesses that he’s at a secure location somewhere - probably underground. He hopes that he was right to let Snape bring him in. He hopes that he was right not to put up more of a fight. He hopes that Sirius doesn’t end up waiting for a day that will never come.

Slipping the poison under his long sleeve, Lupin attempts to sit up. The movement sends a dull ache through his shoulder, making him wish he’d had time to completely heal before all of this kicked off. His head’s all fuzzy with concussion, making focus difficult and sleep all the more welcoming.

Lupin doubts he’ll have any sweet dreams anytime soon though.

Now he can see the room, he regrets letting Snape bring him in even more. At one end is a bald business man in a clearly tailored suit of entirely black fabric. And standing behind him are Snape and Regulus.They’re standing with their shoulders almost touching in matching dark suits with their sleeves rolled up to their elbows to reveal tattoos encompassing their forearms. From his place on the floor across the room, Lupin can’t make out what the tattoo is, but they look identical.

_Hopefully Snape has a plan._

The leader of the trio approaches with Snape and Regulus flanking him on either side. He’s tall and broad enough to be intimidating even to Lupin, and it doesn’t help that there’s a blade passing between his two hands with the ease of familiarity - with the ease of a killer. About two meters away, he signals for the others to stay put and continues alone; he evidently knows he doesn’t need anyone else around to threaten Lupin. 

As the man crouches down with his face only centimeters away, Lupin tries not to let his breathing stall. He also tries not to lean back, but he can’t manage to stop his body from instinctively shifting away from the man who’s reeking of violence and hatred moulded into something sleek and deadly. 

“You were given a job that’s yet to be completed, and we were just wondering why Regulus is still with us today,” the man hisses in an almost charming way as he smiles sharply.

Lupin takes a breath and releases the lie he’d woven into truth just in case something like this left him in need of weaponizing words into shields, “I was wounded after my last assignment and it’s taking longer to heal than usual,” he pauses and risks a look at Regulus who’s standing still as stone with a blank expression on his face. “And given the person’s reputation I thought it best to have most of my recovery behind me by the time I executed the job.”

There’s a second of silence under the low ceiling where nobody except the man wielding all of the power moves.

And when he does, it’s with all of the venom of a snake poised to strike. 

“Wounded?” he asks in mock concern, eyes raking over Lupin in the way hunters look at wounded prey. They don’t pause at his shoulder though, and Lupin hopes he’s made it without revealing his weakness. 

“I suppose it’s only reasonable considering the profession - I heard about an agent getting shot around a month back. They didn’t mention where they were shot…” The man gets up and twirls the knife around his fingers, walking around Lupin in a loose circle that’s wide enough to include Snape and Regulus. 

Not keen to let the man out of his sight, Lupin notes his easy swagger against the rigidity of his lackeys. The stark contrast between the two emphasises the uneasy lines of Regulus’ shoulders and the tension keeping Snape’s back taught. 

The man pauses for a second next to Regulus and inspects his knife closely. “Tell me, do you know who I am?” he asks, sparing Lupin a glance before running a finger over the edge of the slightly curved blade. A droplet of blood forms and hangs onto his thumb’s nail, but the man doesn’t flinch or even seem to notice - too caught up in inspecting the smooth metal. “I’m the one they brought in to keep people like you in line. Of course, they didn’t realise just who they were handing over their precious little soldiers over to,” he continues in a way which tells Lupin that only his ears and his soul are required.

“The people at the top, you see, they don’t care about who they’re recruiting as long as they’ll get the job done and tie up loose ends. I heard a story about someone losing their son to the organisation just to keep their own neck off the chopping block. Apparently they hadn’t really done any crime other than thinking about letting a small Welsh newspaper know something the big bosses would prefer to stay buried,” the man smiles at Lupin almost pityingly.

And all Lupin can think about is coming home from school to find his parents arguing in the kitchen over apple cake. He’d been hungry - he hadn’t been thinking about what he was walking into. He’d barely noticed the silence falling around him as he cut into the cake.

Lupin doesn’t want to think about how this man knows about how and why he joined up. Lupin doesn’t want to think about how anyone else might know the hate he can’t help from burning in his gut at the mention of his father - the man who’d decided his son wasn’t worth keeping around if it would keep the wolf from the door.

His expression must betray something about what’s going on inside his head - the anger aimed at the organisation who’d given him first kills before his first kiss and the trail of people who’d let him sign his name away to them - because then man’s smile widens almost imperceptibly.

“I knew you’d understand. The organisation is sick and they don’t care about who they have to step on to achieve their ends. Of course, what they do is important work,” the man raises his voice and flicks his knife clean of the blood, “I think we can all agree that the scum of this world needs cleansing rather than any kind of salvation. But this place has become what they were set up to get rid of; it’s infested with animals to be flushed out.”

He pauses and resumes pacing. Except instead of keeping any kind of notable distance between them, the space between Lupin and the man disappears. After his previous words have sunk in, he crouches down and Lupin feels sick to his stomach with how unaffected the man is after talking about creating so much death.

In that moment, he understands the real danger of the man who sweeps up whoever the organisation tosses under the bus. He understands because it had taken a moment for him to remember the good people he’d met at work - people he’d die to protect. It takes him a moment to realise that this man would want them dead for their soft hearts.

It takes him a moment to realise he’d come close to signing up for more blood than anyone could ever wash off from their hands in several lifetimes. And he hates how all it had taken was words to bring to that point.

“I won’t hurt those who embrace the change -those with hearts steady enough to see things through and make this world a better place. And I won’t hurt you if you sign up for the greater good, because what good would that do anyone?” the man asks in a voice as soft as silk. Underneath the surface, there’s a threat as deadly as the fabric Lupin’s used to smother people stupid enough to fall into bed with him. 

Lupin picks up on a flicker of silver behind the man’s head - another blade’s in the room.

And it strikes him that if Snape and Regulus are on his side, then this private room provides the perfect cover for an ambush. It strikes him that he’s not even that needed in the fight; Snape brought him here as a distraction.

The thought sends his heart into a steady rhythm for the first time since he’d woken up. 

The man still hasn’t moved from his place inches away from Lupin’s now carefully blank face.

He clears his throat, “you seem to know a lot about me, and now I know all of your plans without a name for who I should congratulate on them.”

“You don’t mind if we keep this professional?” the man grins with all of his teeth on show. “The name’s Voldemort-”

Voldemort’s face contorts into an expression of furious agony. He slumps forwards, crashing into Lupin’s shoulder which explodes in pain making him cry out.

Determined to take his attacker down, Voldemort scrambles up and turns to face Regulus and Snape. Lying on the floor, Lupin sees the dagger sticking out of his back. It’s sunk in all the way up to the hilt with blood beginning to well up where it’s sunk in between his ribs through the expensive suit. Lurching forwards through the bone deep ache in his shoulder, Lupin tugs the blade out to let the blood bleed freely before falling back to avoid any retaliation. 

But there’s nothing - Voldemort crumbles to the floor after another blow and stays down. 

“Shit,” Lupin grits out, holding one arm to take the weight off the wounded shoulder. 

There’s a second of silence.

“Dead?” he asks Regulus who’s crouched over the body. 

After a flick of a blade, he nods his head in reply. “The cleaners are expecting a body, and they don’t pay attention to whose guts they’re cleaning up from this place,” Regulus explains whilst standing slowly and stowing his blades away.

Snape walks over and considers Lupin. “Can you walk?” he questions, eyes just as emotionless as the first time Lupin had caught them. 

“With some pain relief I’ll be as good as gold,” he tactfully replies.

Without missing a beat, Snape slides a hand into an inside pocket of his blazer and throws a full pack of pills at Lupin’s lap. “Those should do,” Snape waits for Lupin to check the packet and then walks over to Regulus. “You need to move,” he states, prowling off in the direction of a door and leaving Regulus and Lupin alone.

The pills don’t go down smoothly without any water, but Lupin takes them anyway and stands up slowly. Listing slightly to one side, he shuffles over to Regulus who turns to face him.

“When we’re out of here, I need you to go through with the plan from before. Sorry about dragging you into this bit, but it was the only way to take down the top guy and now that he’s gone there’s a lot more I can do to make sure his plans never see the light of day,” mutters Regulus, not quite meeting Lupin’s eye.

And Lupin curses himself for forgetting the order - for thinking the plan wasn’t needed if Voldemort was dead. But he supposes that the worst people always find ways to make life miserable even after they’ve been dealt with.

_Just because one person is gone, doesn’t mean the system which created them won’t create another to take their place. Somebody has to change things - dismantle all of the structures which let them take power in the first place. And this time that person’s someone’s younger brother._

_This time he’s the only person who can give Regulus another option._

_Lupin’s the only one who can stand in front and help the way he wishes someone had done for him all those years ago when death was something he’d yet to touch with his own hands_.

“I can’t let you do this - not alone,” he states, and he’s never been so certain of his words.

Regulus looks at him like he’s mad. He looks at Lupin like he wants to cry - as if the world had just been handed to him in a way he doesn’t know how to refuse. 

“Promise me you’ll survive for Sirius, and I’ll let you help. But you have to survive this for him - it doesn’t matter about me because I’ll be dead coming out of this either way,” Regulus replies.

Lupin nods; he knows how it feels to love someone more than your own life. It’s the reason he left home when his mother told him she’d go instead when his father had refused. 

As they make their way out of the building, Lupin slips the poison into his hand and thanks the gods that he’d reached out for two bottles.

_He hopes Molly won’t be too mad when she realises she’s got an extra patient to raise from the dead_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep. We're on the home straight now fellas. Can't beleive I've writtten so many words? Just a couple of chapters left - though they may take a little longer depending on whether I write them before or after going camping next week... And never fear, I'm gonna make sure to pile on the comfort after all of the angst.


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a new addition to the Potter household.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I saved this one to post as a treat when I got back from holiday, and I'm glad I did because it's boiling hot and words aren't meant to be created in the heat.

Remus doesn’t come back that month - or the one after that. But Sirius carries on because he has to. He carries on because James is freaking out and Lily sleeps in past the morning shift as her due date creeps closer. July arrives and he’s practically moved into their house to help get everything ready and run the coffee shop.

After weeks of putting it off, Sirius opens up the piece of paper from Regulus. The goodbye inside is almost anticlimactic - just a hastily written apology and a blessing to do whatever he’d like with Remus as long as Lupin stays buried. It stings because Sirius doesn’t think he’ll see either of them again.

But rather than mull over what could have been, he gets his shit together and buries himself in work. Sometimes he turns over the idea of dropping by the Weasleys’ place just to see if they’ve heard anything, but then decides against it before it gets any bigger than a daydream.

On the 31st, he wakes up to a quiet house for once. Normally, James comes in to remind him to get in gear for the early commuters, but today there’s sunlight streaming in without any sign of the guy. Stumbling out of bed, he makes his way out into the kitchen. There’s a note on the counter (why is he always waking up  _ after  _ people have left notes?) which tells him that Lily’s decided to take on the early morning shift today and that he’s expected in for lunch after his lie in. Glancing at his watch, Sirius doesn’t bother getting breakfast; he can eat it at the café as he’s already on the edge of being late. 

The sky’s bright blue on his way around the corner. It’s the type of day which fills up the outdoor tables and leaves the inside relatively empty. Sirius can’t help but love lazy days like this when he doesn’t have to worry so much about being overheard when chatting to the Potter behind the till.

As he’d thought there would be, people are gathered outside on the picnic tables. A couple have even spilled over into the shade of the bus stop, quietly sipping iced drinks from the degradable cups Lily’s so proud of finding in time to stock for summer. 

“Busy morning?” he trills as the cool air from the air conditioner hits him full in the face. 

James glances up and grins at him from over the counter on top of the new stool (Lily had eventually won that argument by working double shifts until James caved), “You have no idea - I thought people would be on holiday but apparently the bankers don’t indulge in anything so human.”

Chuckling, Sirius slides in and grabs a croissant from the reject pile. Except, just as he’s about to take a bite, there’s a screech from across the room.

It sounds like Lily.

James is up and moving before the sound is even out of her lips, holding her up as she bends over. There’s a broken mug on the floor and her breathing sounds loud next to James’ soft whispers of comfort. 

After a couple minutes (minutes which feel like years with her hand clutching at Sirius’ so tight it hurts), Lily straightens up.

“I guess the little guy doesn’t feel like waiting any longer…” she laughs nervously. 

James scratches the back of his neck in the way he does moments away from freaking out, and Sirius gets it because this wasn’t supposed to happen for another couple of weeks and now he’s going to be an uncle faster than anticipated.

Rolling her eyes, Lily lets go of their hands and crosses her arms. “You guys aren’t going to freak out or anything are you? Because I swear to the Gods please save that for after I’ve gone through labour,” she says, levelling them with a steely glare.

“I’ll schedule it for after labor then - preferably when the kid’s sleeping,” Sirius snarks back, moving away to grab a broom to clear up the mug.

Looking pretty shaken still, James squeezes his eyes shut and opens them wide several times to look at Lily. “I’m… gonna be a dad?” he sounds out the words as though they might not be real if he says them too loud. “Lily you are a wonder - we’ve created a whole person!” James exclaims a second later, evidently deciding that his wife actually is going into labour and that nothing’s going to change that - even talking about it at the top of his voice.

Lily looks ready to burst out laughing as she takes a seat on the nearest chair. “Yep, don’t think I’ve ever been more aware of the fact we’re creating a kid at the moment,” she chuckles.

“I don’t mean to interrupt this revelation, but what happens now? Should I call an ambulance or close up the shop?” Sirius asks. He’s completely at a loss in the realm of giving birth -  _ he’s at a loss in the realm of most things to do with women to be honest _ . 

“I’ve probably got a while before labour gets established, so-” Lily begins before James cuts her off.

“So it’s the perfect time to close the shop and take a gentle stroll home,” he finishes, sounding sure of himself for the first time since Lily’s contraction.

Sirius shrugs, “I don’t mind clearing up if you guys want to head on out. I’ll let these people finish their tea and you can let me know when’s a good time to deliver you to the hospital in my new baby safe bike sidecar.”

Sighing, Lily nods, “I was going to say I could work for a bit longer but I can’t deny Sirius taking on responsibility and spreading his wings to embrace adulthood. A ride to the hospital would be wonderful - can James ride as well or does it only accept passengers with fabulous hair?” 

“Fabulous hair only of course!” Sirius answers looking mildly offended at the suggestion of anything else. “I can double back pick James up once you’re there if need be,” he suggests.

James frowns, “I don’t know how I feel about sending you off to get kidnapped by Sirius after getting my  _ perfectly fine _ hair getting so insulted, but I’m out of other options…”

Standing up, Lily swings her arms around his neck and leans onto her tiptoes to give him a kiss on the cheek. “We’ll be fine,” she promises, dragging him out of the door and waving blindly at Sirius.

Over the next couple of hours, the shop empties of the last customers witha little help from a closed sign and nudges to hurry up drinking from Sirius. He finally shoos out a lingering laptop typer from one of the back corners and locks up, taking a couple of pastries with him for the walk back to his to collect his bike and await the call.

He feels like skipping; there’s a nervous bounce to his step and an energy he can’t get rid of. It follows him through his front door and leaves him wandering around his kitchen to gather up ingredients for soup. Working quickly because at the moment doing anything slowly sounds like a foreign idea, Sirius chops the vegetables and chucks them into a pan. The kettle boils as he scrapes the garlic into the pot, almost making him drop the board. 

Ten minutes later, just as he’s sipping soup to adjust the seasoning, the phone rings, and Sirius actually does drop the spoon he’s holding. 

“Time? He asks urgently into the receiver, trying to wipe the hot soup from his t-shirt. 

“Yep, but don’t break any speed limits on the way over,” Lily answers in a determined voice.

“I’m on my way - hold tight and don’t you dare have the kid before I get there!” he says, ending the call and rushing to put the hot soup into containers. Then, he puts the containers into a bag, grabs his keys and phone, and runs out the door taking the stairs two at a time.

It takes no time at all to arrive at the Potter’s house, and suddenly he’s standing outside with a bag of soup and ringing the bell. James answers, looking frazzled beyond belief - as if he’s the one about to give birth. 

“Thank fuck you’re here, she’s just upstairs. I’ll go get her,” James says in a rush about to turn right around again.

Grabbing his best mate’s arm to stop him, Sirius hands him the bag. “It’s some soup in case you don’t have much time for cooking over the next couple of days - just veggie ‘cos I figured keeping it simple might be better and I only had ten minutes. We’ve got this James,” he promises, bringing James in for a hug.

“Sirius I-” James breaks off as footsteps sound behind them.

“I thought it might be you from how long James was gone - and the fact that if you were any slower I’d suspect an imposter showing up on my doorstep,” Lily grins with one hand gently massaging her stomach.

Sirius lets go of James and pats him on the back, “Best get going I guess, safe journey James we’ll see you there.”

Lily embraces James for a last time, and then they’re off - flying through the streets at a slower pace than usual and avoiding road bumps like the plague. It doesn’t take longer than five minutes normally, but Sirius has to pull over halfway there to hold Lily’s hand through a contraction. It looks a hell of a lot more intense than the one he’d seen earlier, but he supposes that only makes sense.

But eventually they make it to the hospital and, in spite of Lily insisting that they don’t need to hurry, they only just make it in time. Lily’s waters break on the way up to the desk and a nurse runs over to them.

_ Hopefully James gets to the hospital soon on his own two legs ‘cos Sirius isn’t about to leave Lily for a second with the way she’s clinging onto his wrist and gritting her teeth _ .

“Just a couple more pushes love, you’re doing amazing!” encourages one of the nurses who had rushed them off to a birthing room after the commotion in reception. 

_ Come on James… _

As if he’d been summoned, James bursts through the doors and rushes over to Lily’s side. As he starts to sit down, though, Lily gives an almighty yell and pushes out a small head topped with tufts of jet black hair.

“Good job, the difficult bit’s all over - just give a couple of gentle pushes now,” nods the nurse.

_ And just like that, there’s a whole new member of the Potter family. _

“Would you like to hold him?”

There’s a small head peeking out of a bundle of blankets clutched close to Lily’s chest. She looks up and smiles at him, before gazing down at her kid’s face again. James hasn’t taken his eyes off his son yet, and his glasses have gotten droplets of tears on them.

James isn’t the only person who’s been crying; Sirius can’t seem to stop his eyes from watering everytime he sees their baby.

Because they’ve got a child to look after now. Because he’s here to see it happen. Because they trust him enough to let him be here to see it happen.

“Harry. I’m gonna name the fella Harry,” declares Lily, sounding slightly drunk but so sure of herself that James and Sirius find themselves agreeing with her.

They don’t need to hear whatever reason she has for naming the baby, and neither of them want one either. The name seems oddly right for the wisps of black hair and sea green eyes belonging to the baby.

_ Belonging to their baby _ .

“Hi Harry, I’m Sirius-ly your godfather,” Sirius coos to the little pile of blankets, “and your parents are amazing, but you can always come to me for chocolate and the best motorbike rides in town.”

Harry falls asleep as he’s talking, and Lily and James struggle not to laugh at the stricken expression on Sirius’ face.

None of them notice the nurse taking a photo of the scene until she slips a printed copy of it into Lily’s hand as they leave the hospital. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally made good on the baby Harry tag and I've written so many words?? I'm thinking I might write a couple of one shots and make this into a series as there's only one chapter left (it might end up being a little longer as there's so much to fit in...) and I very much have fallen in love with writing this little world. Feel free to sling ideas my way for the little snippets!


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus comes back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like my chapter summaries have gradually got shorter over the course of this whilst the notes have got longer and perhaps less coherent. Is that a sign I maybe shouldn't be posting at night? Anyway, there aren't any new warnings for this chapter, just mentions of scars and violence and Remus' terrible sense of self worth. Enjoy the last chapter of this main section!

Lupin’s tired.

After months following shadows and chasing down nightmares he’s ready to sleep off the bags under his eyes in the blazing light of the sun. After months of being Lupin, he’d like to slip on the easy clothes of Remus and stitch them into his skin so they’ll never be taken off - so they’ll be part of him and he’ll be part of them. 

That’s why he’s standing outside the coffee shop where it all began with Molly half holding him upright as he clenches his teeth so he doesn’t yell out in pain when they step forwards. In spite of the hot weather there are only a couple of people in the shop; most people choose to take away their drinks to the park on days like this.

Lupin’s bone tired, and he barely notices the lack of people sitting on the bright orange chairs on the pavement. There’s only one thing he cares about - only one person he needs to see.

And after that he’ll be okay.

_ After that he has to be okay _ .

“You ready dear?” Molly asks, hand out to push open the door.

Lupin nods, and they enter.

There’s a second where nothing changes - except for the shop now having two customers. Then Lily looks up from her place behind the till.

Her eyes go wide as she takes in Lupin’s limping over with help from Molly.

_ She probably notices the black eyes too _ .

Sirius turns round when she goes silent, not responding to a joke. Lupin’s vision tunnels as he runs his eyes over the familiar features, seeing how the months have changed them. There’s more stubble on his chin now, and the hint of dark circles under his eyes. But Sirius looks healthy even as his smile falls from his face. 

Standing so close to him feels like a dream.

“Remus?” whispers Sirius, breaking the silence as all of the breath seems to be sucked from Lupin’s lungs.

“Hey,” he replies in the same quiet voice Sirius used. 

Looking around, Molly maneuvers Remus into a chair.

Lily quietly puts up the closed sign.

She no longer looks pregnant - Remus wonders if the baby’s already been born. He hopes it went well; the Potters make perfect parents.

Looking across, he notices Sirius sitting next to him now. It’s all he can do not to just reach across and check once more if this is real - if he’s really allowed this after everything.

Suddenly facing Sirius feels more difficult. Suddenly, he can’t meet Sirius’ eyes.

And the other man’s face falls like Remus knew it always would when shown the truth. It falls in the same way Peter’s had when he’d found out just how many lies their friendship was built on. Like a kick to the ribs, it makes his chest ache.

The worst part is that he can’t blame Sirius for it.

“Remus?” Sirius asks, voice as fragile as glass.

He sounds as though he’s just as terrified of breaking something as he is of being broken himself. Remus just wants to find the words that will avoid all of that - the words which might save this from crashing and burning.

But he can’t tell him about Regulus; Sirius can’t find out about his brother’s recently bloodied hands.

“He’s gone,” is all he says.

“Does that mean…” Sirius trails off staring down at Remus’ hands.

Remus flattens his palms out on the table. 

“I’m done with them. To be precise, I’m taking early retirement,” he finishes, trying to round it off with a smile.

Molly takes that as her queue to introduce herself to Lily, bustling over to the counter in search of tea with Lily trailing behind. 

Then Sirius’ hands are on his. Sirius’ hands are on his and everything seems so simple. It seems like they’re the only two people in existence in this small corner of the world. 

“If you’re taking retirement, then best believe I’ll be making the most of your free time,” Sirius smiles tentatively, his head leaning across the table so that loose strands of hair fall from his bun to cover his eyes.

And Remus can’t find it in himself to care about the tear slipping down his cheek or the fresh scars sleeping under his clothes.

_ Because Sirius is with him, as he will be for the days to come _ .

  
  


Approaching slowly due to the tea in her hands, Lily walks over with Molly. “It’s good to see you again Remus,” she says in a warm voice. There’s no hesitation to her words, and no tremble in her spine.

Remus can see why James fell for her; Lily has the strength of a leader and the dedication to make you believe she’ll make it to the top. 

“How much did I miss whilst I was away?” he asks her, looking away from Sirius for the first time. 

Lily and Sirius exchange a prideful smirk.

“Only the arrival of Harry - he ended up being a little earlier than planned,” Lily explains.

Sirius huffs, “yeah, the little tyke couldn’t wait to start causing trouble for us. James is watching the fella now.”

Remus guesses his surprise must show on his face because the next moment everyone, including Molly, is laughing.

“I just thought because Lily’s working…” Remus shakes his head.

“I know, because women can’t give birth and get back to work within the year without being heartless,” Lily fires back. “James agreed to give up as much work as I do at the beginning of this. I think if anything I’m the one persuading him to help out more at the shop.”

Remus is about to apologise, but Molly jumps into the conversation when his mouth’s only half open. 

“You’ve got kids! Oh this is great news Lily, I’ve got a boy who must be only a couple of months older than Harry. Let me know if you need any help or advice with anything as he’s my sixth - I don’t think there are many more tricks to learn by the time you get past number four!”

Looking a little overwhelmed, Lily rubs her stomach where the bump must have been. “He’s only our first so truth be told we’re sort of learning as we go-”

“Whose first?” James questions from behind them, making almost everyone at the table jump. 

“When did you come down? I was just telling Molly and R-” 

“Remus!” exclaims James, looking ready to jump over the table and smother Remus in hugs if it weren’t for the baby strapped to his chest. Then, as if realising how loud he’d just been, James checks on the silent bundle, patting it gently with a frown on his forehead.

“Sorry to postpone the catch-up, but Harry’s not getting to sleep and I’ve tried just about everything I can think of.” James looks up at Lily with eyes full of worry and teeth full of frustration.

Molly peers over his shoulder. “Have you tried going for a walk? He’ll drop off in no time if you make sure he’s tired first,” she advises.

Sighing, James lifts Harry out of the pouch and brings the tiny baby level with his face so he’s staring him dead in the eye.

“You weren’t tired this whole time? And you didn’t think your old man might want to know you’d prefer to go for a walk than be all cooped up in the cot?”

Harry gurgles, wriggling in a way that makes his fluffy black hair float about.

“Okay, keep your secrets,” James narrows his eyes at his son and gently places him into Molly’s arms at a nod from Lily. 

Taking the baby, Molly nestles him close to her, rocking him back and forth. “Aren’t you a small one? Almost as tiny as my twins when they were as old as you,” she coos.

Lily and James both crowd around the two, completely enraptured by their kid. Remus watches them frozen, both unable to move closer without someone to help him up, and scared to accidently hurt the baby.

“Do you want to get closer?” asks Sirius softly. 

Not knowing what to say to that, Remus just stares down at his hands wondering how to put a swirling mix of love, fear, and guilt into words.

In the end, he doesn’t need to find any words because suddenly Sirius is holding out the bundle of swaddle to Remus. Peeking out from the top he can make out minute features set into deep tan skin, and a pair of eyes the exact same shade of green as Lily’s staring straight back at him. Under that gaze, words don’t seem important. It nudges against his soul and coaxes Remus into reaching out, in awe of the unwavering trust of someone who’s never known anyone to break it.

He’s only a baby, but Remus can’t look away. 

He’s only a baby, but Remus is allowed to see Harry grow up into so much more. 

“Thank you Sirius,” Remus murmurs softly so as not to startle Harry. “I don’t suppose you’ve got room for me in your apartment? I haven’t been back to mine since…”

“Sure thing. Didn’t I just say we’re retiring together?” Sirius grins at him the same way he did when they’d first talked to each other over coffee, “I don’t know about you, but retiring together in separate houses kind of defeats the purpose of retiring  _ together _ .”

“We can’t have that now can we…” muses Remus, revelling in how easily Sirius refers to  _ their  _ future  _ together _ .

Until he’d met Sirius, Remus didn’t think people like him deserved futures. And while he still can’t agree with the orders he’s carried out over the years ( _ with the way he’s only just now breaking free of the whole thing when he could have saved so many more by doing it earlier _ ), Remus thinks he might just be able to start washing the blood from his hands if he has a future to do it in.

  
_ A future with Potters, Weasleys, and one Sirius Black _ . 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow... over 50,000 words later, we're done. It's been a ride? Thank you to everyone who's read this, commented or left kudos - you guys are amazing and I'm not sure I'd have gotten this far without y'all. As for what happens next, I'm thinking of doing a series of oneshots of the retired couple being the best godparents and racing about on a motorbike in between shifts at the coffee shop. Updates might be real sporadic, but I'll post them all in the series I've created with this main fic in. I think that's everything? Let me know what ya think in the comments, and I'll hopefully be back before too long!

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what ya think in the comments and stay safe y'all it's a scary world out there!


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